In a Vatican Garden, near oleanders and magnolias, a caretaker pruned a bush. As he carried the pruned twigs away, one dropped unnoticed into the grass.
Something (the wind? a bird? a curious child? a rivulet after rain?) carried it away until it stopped (was dropped? the wind or water abated?) in St. Peter’s Square. And, improbability on top of improbability, it was wedged into a small space between two paving stones. More improbably, no visitor to the square stepped on it. It was spared again and again. It sent down roots. But anyone who saw it would think it just a weed. Almost anyone. But then there’s Leo.
Sometimes a weed is a flower growing in an inconvenient place.
But this one’s growing here
Right in St. Peter’s Square
Beneath the pilgrim’s feet
It’s growing soft and sweet
And waiting
Leo will take it home
Where the Bishop of Rome
Will watch it as it grows
Into a fragrant rose
In his garden
And of course it was a rose, iconic of Mary. Maybe she sent it to Leo.
Well, you knew it was going to be a rose, didn’t you?
Leo didn’t. He just wanted it to become.
[With apologies and respect to Jerry Lieber, Phil Spector, Ben E. King, Aretha Franklin, and anyone else who helped the original to become.]
In a Vatican Garden, near oleanders and magnolias, a caretaker pruned a bush. As he carried the pruned twigs away, one dropped unnoticed into the grass.
Something (the wind? a bird? a curious child? a rivulet after rain?) carried it away until it stopped (was dropped? the wind or water abated?) in St. Peter’s Square. And, improbability on top of improbability, it was wedged into a small space between two paving stones. More improbably, no visitor to the square stepped on it. It was spared again and again. It sent down roots. But anyone who saw it would think it just a weed. Almost anyone. But then there’s Leo.
Sometimes a weed is a flower growing in an inconvenient place.
But this one’s growing here
Right in St. Peter’s Square
Beneath the pilgrim’s feet
It’s growing soft and sweet
And waiting
Leo will take it home
Where the Bishop of Rome
Will watch it as it grows
Into a fragrant rose
In his garden
And of course it was a rose, iconic of Mary. Maybe she sent it to Leo.
Well, you knew it was going to be a rose, didn’t you?
Leo didn’t. He just wanted it to become.[With apologies and respect to Jerry Lieber, Phil Spector, Ben E. King, Aretha Franklin, and anyone else who helped the original to become.]