Pulling weeds from a garden
A flower seemed of dead
Grabbed its base and tugged upon
Removed it from its bed

Flat in hand the flower bloomed
An instant shock of life
Dead but once alive again
Held it like a knife

Firm with care but loose with trust
The flower seemed to fade
Just to come right back again
When in my hand it laid

Across my hand the stem spread out
Growing fast its roots expand
One goes left, the other right
And attaches where it land

It stays amongst me as each day passes
Like it has been since the start
And if the flower ever leaves
It will stay within my heart.