“The Rest”- a poem

It is the little things, all the “rest”, that are life’s treasures.

I came across a child one day

Who asked me for my name.

I told her, and without a thought,

She asked to play a game

SHE said of treasures in the world,

What did I love the best?

I thought and thought, and thought some more

And then I said, the rest.

THE rest- she said, what do you mean?

I calmly then explained,

Not all our treasures must be grand,

Nor must they be retained.

THE sunrise in the morning sky,

The flowers known as weeds.

A pathway still not traveled yet

To now see where it leads.

FOR blessings in my daily life,

I cannot choose the best.

But if I had to say, just one

Then I would say the “rest”.

Retm