There is a tree stump

hollow and gnarled.

Sitting there lonely

and full of sorrow.

 

I feel its wanting

to be of some use.

Be like the others

to flower and produce.

 

As I rock in my chair

a thought comes to mind.

I can help this stump

with little effort and time.

 

I go to the garden shed

and grab a small trowel.

Pick up a pot of petunias

and a dirty old towel.

 

Place down the towel

and kneel at the stump.

I put in some soil

and chop out the lumps.

 

I place in the petunias

and cover them with dirt.

Sprinkle on some water

so they’ll remain alert.

 

Now I wake up each morning,

as the Sun crests the hills.

That lonely little stump

is blooming and thrilled.