My Own

The Written Delights Of The Peach Poet

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I wanted to be a flower
amid the beauty of a garden,
But could not find the soil.

I wanted to be the Blue Bird
and sing my pretty song,
But could not find a branch to sit.

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I wanted to be a book to be read,
page after page, hungrily and lovingly,
But could not find a reader.

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I wanted to be a student, taught with gentle hands the essence of knowledge.
But could not find a teacher.

So I decided to be…

My own Soil
My own Branch
My own Reader
My own Teacher

I decided just to be… My Own.

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