No Ordinary Daisy

The daisy lay tattered    
Among blades of grass taller than she  
Her petals wilted and worn  
Seemingly destroyed  
Yet, she lay as if placed gently    
The sun, perplexed  
Gazed upon the daisy    
Her stem curled  
Her petals worn thin, nearly translucent  
A few plucked from her body  
Lay scattered nearby  
The grass, imprinted with tiny hollows  
Snaked away from the tiny daisy  
The sun, with a full schedule  
Had to get on with the business of illuminating the world    
She made mental note to keep watch    
This was the twelfth daisy to be desecrated    
And revered  
The next morning the sun was running late    
She remembered the daisy destroyer at the last minute  
A small child  
With curly fire hair sat in the tall grass  
Tears streaming down her face   
Staring at the daisy in her hands  
She held the tiny flower lovingly, her lips moving  
Yet, the sun was unable to hear the child    
The sun moved closer  
The child squinted her eyes in the bright sunlight  
“I will not cry in front of her”  
The daisy, as delicate as the child’s tears  
Unable to withstand the child’s grief  
Failed to remain intact    
The child wiped her tears  
Sat for a few moments  
Gently lay the daisy in the grass  
Attempted to smooth her petals and stem  
Slowly stood up and walked away  
Her shoulders slumped  
Her head lowered  
The sun, her grief overwhelming  
Cast her shadow upon the daisy  
Until the day the young child returned  
Decades later  
To place another tiny, delicate daisy in her hair  
Say a small prayer  
Smile and walk away  
Head held high