Af Michael Barnett

By the roadside
I found a blessing
In a gutter, nestling.
Shining bright
like a virgin bride,
on a wedding night.

Nearby, another
further on, a hundred other.

Someone must have passed this way
scattering blessings in cosmic play,
laughing at just
how few would find them there.
Whilst others kicked them in the dust.

Some would wear them in their hair
and others in a sparkling eye,
to turn in joy on passersby.
That’s how,often, they are found,
blessings, scattered on the ground.