A crushed flower, once so bright
Hidden, lost between two pages,
Unnoticed as the colour seeped
away.
Dried of life and paper thin
Drained of fragrance from within
The petals wait.
Until a Saviour deftly turned
The pages yellowed yet with age,
And found the tiny stifled bloom
Within the paper walls of text.
Now see Him bend to gaze upon
Beauty buried for so long.
He lifts the fragile petals high
With expert care to hold them
close.
And in His time, with healing touch
He tends the flower back to life
For other dried deserted lives
Need this flourishing of hope.
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