The Background

Who made the earth?

Who made the skies and the ground?

Who made the plants?

Not the ones blooming with flowers, this one.

The one hiding behind the other plants,

the one unnoticed but present,

who is slow dancing with the wind,

who is connecting itself to the Earth.

Now I walk away.

Now it disappears into the background.

I don't know the purpose of this plant. 

I do know it exists. Waiting,

one of the many hiding, 

yet wanting our eyes to find it. 

Tell me, was its only purpose to 

fit in the background.

Tell me, is it so much more than that? Are we?