A young maid
And her matron aunt
Walked softly
Through the tender
Young grass,
Admiring the many
Delicate spring flowers
As their batiste skirts
Fluttered gently
In the warming breeze.
Aunt, asked the maid,
Turning her beribboned head,
Where do we find
Happiness
In this world
Full of discontent?
The elder lady
Thought for a moment,
Pondering the simple question;
Why, it can be difficult,
Of course,
Was her reply,
But it can be found
If we but look within
And count our blessings
Rather than
Our havenots.
But what,
The young maid began,
If we do not have
Any blessings?
The matron lady smiled,
Oh but we do,
She assured.
Granted,
Some of us
More than others,
But, my dear,
Have you never noticed
How those with the most
Often see the least
In what they have?
Puzzled, the young maid
Stooped to pluck
A lavender blossom,
Why is that, Aunt?
And the lady responded,
Perhaps because
They are never satisfied?
I think it would be sad,
The maid decided,
To feel unblessed
On a day such as
Today,
With the sun shining
Fairly
And the flowers
At our feet,
'Twould be nice, indeed,
To have much,
But not if I
Could no longer see
The beauty around me.
And they walked on,
Arms about one another,
Enjoying the blessings
They could see. 


image by Jess Foami from Pixabay