It Matters Not To the Flower

It matters not to the flower,
If never viewed of human eye.
It blooms for the owner,
Who gardens from on high.

Tho’ planted in secret place,
To seemly dwell alone.
Even the perfectly hidden,
Perfectly, by the gardener are known.

Planted and Planter sight unseen,
Link in noble quest.
Each with purpose fixed on the other,
They give one another their best.

M Paul Burress