Walking in Daisy Fields

Walking in Daisy Fields.

Countless daisies shooting up,

Interspersed with buttercup.

A blanket white with yellow speck.

My footfall crush the tender neck

Of fragile life that strives to grow

Despite adversity unknown.

Yet they prosper where they are

Each single one no other knows.

Nor speak, nor see, nor hear,

But touch in gentle breeze

That often blow.

What message sent or tussle settled

At each caress of tiny petal.

Order rules this mass display.

A short time here then gone away.

David Shelton.