Just Supposing.

Suppose this flower I hold in my hand Could speak of need for presence, reveal How to exist, with quiet understanding, Of what being a rose brings to life's zeal. Suppose this tree I embrace with my arms Could give me its truth about feeling peace By finding beauty, in just being calm, And in doing so find life's power increase. Suppose this rock upon which I repose Could like tree and rose, show me secrets Of stillness survival, in which it knows That being oneself leads to no regrets. Suppose I seek joy in just being me. Real assurance from rock, tree and rose Would expose love of life's wonders, and Become part to me too. I could I suppose.