What Was Worthwhile

I once had a thought, notion, idea
I wrote it out and it was wonderful

I elated at its brilliance, marveled
I caressed it and polished it bright

I wanted it to be even more perfect
I re-wrote it, re-positioned it just so

I stepped back for a re-evaluation
I still didn’t think it quite right

I toiled and struggled with meanings
I ironed it and honed points sharp

I looked again and noticed it tilting
I saw stains on the edges start seeping

I cleaned it up again, scrubbed deliriously
I trimmed, lopped-off overgrown parts

I stopped and checked and staggered
I wiped the sweat from my brow

I saw my once-great thing disfigured now
I had defiled its purity; it would never live

I tore and ripped and shredded my creation
I burned it down and cast it to the wind

I followed the pieces spreading about
I watched them soak black into the soil

I kicked the ground that it had stained
I overturned the dirt, to bury it forever

I noticed a movement, the tiniest twitch
I watched a new flower rise and bloom

I stood in awe of such impossible beauty
I smelled a lovely fragrance wafting over me

I stooped to pluck it for my very own
I hesitated, then chose to let it stay

I stood back up and turned away
I left that flower behind for all