A matter of importance

From “The colour of wheatfields”


Tiny little flower growing in the dry land

The only green shade in the desert

How did it find a way in this arid empty place

To emerge from the sand?

Perhaps it’s here to be noticed by the little prince

When he falls down.

When he can’t stand anymore

And this beautiful flower comforts his soul that is sore.

This flower is like a rose

But it doesn’t have thorns

And it is strong.

Perhaps it lives thanks to the prince’s tears

They must be like a symbiosis.

Otherwise this tiny flower.

How could it conquer the desert?

How did it manage

Despite the heat

Despite the dryness

To appear and soothe this little prince’s sadness?

And it’s fragile

Which may be why

The little prince will cry

So that the flower doesn’t go.

There might never be any other plant in the desert

The flower must know that maybe

It will always be alone on the dry sand.

With a prince that often cries

But not always

But that doesn’t mean that the flower will die.

Whoever can find themselves in the flower

Must know that they have a place

And as tiny as it can be

What’s essential is that they were able to make their way through the rocks

To emerge from the dust of a dry heart

They brought life to a place no one thought they had a chance.

They are a matter of importance.



This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License

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