Parable
First-blessed with life, from seed there slowly grew
A mawkish weed, unworthy of the sun:
Its root imperiled in unstable sand,
Its stem beset by every wind that blew,
Its purchase daily fought and grimly won,
Its budding flowerets plucked by every hand.
The withered weed, uprooted, mortified
And breeze-borne, came at chance to rest
Beside one fragile bloom unknown to men.
The weed, by beauty nourished, vivified,
Sank tendrils in the earth’s forgiving breast,
Sprang up renewed and flourished once again.
Together now, they rise in unison,
And closer grow with every passing hour
Through love, compassion, selflessness and need.
So twined they are they seem as only one:
The weed with beauty borrowed from the flower,
The flower stronger now beside the weed.