Coming home

On a mountain high as the heavens,
there bloomed a precious flower.

Drenched in yellow beauty it stood,
with deep crimson shades of power.

The fragrance wafted, enchanting the world,
although many looked for it, it was never found.

Out in the open, there for all to see,
yet none had the vision to recognise the beauty abound.

A lifetime of waiting ended with a moment of truth,
a wanderer came closer, drawn by the glow.

Such a sight he had never seen before,
his eyes lit up, the fragrance dealt another blow.

Reeling, overwhelmed, he knelt beside it,
touching it ever so softly, he made up his mind.

His wanderings had all been in vain,
for this is what he had been waiting to find.

He knew not why, but there was a memory from long ago,
the flower had been waiting for him, for him it grew.

The wanderer looked at it, smelt it in awe…
as it dawned on him, he said “Oh…it’s you…”

A decision was made, there were no two ways,
he would spend his life next to the flower.

Few are blessed so by God, even fewer are touched by him,
he would tend to it, until the very last shower.