On On the day I realized and believed
that God had been looking for me,
I wondered
why He was looking for me.
What was He going to do
after He found me, I who am insignificant
like a broken water jar
near a spring?
I wondered.
Ah,
while comforting this one chrysanthemum’s broken heart
and tying up its scattered pieces with straw ropes,
He plants
the chrysanthemum
that once blossomed alone
in the corner of a field
outside of the window,
into a flowerpot;
for Him to see
its blossoming and withering image,
even though cold frost falls down,
and late autumn may almost pass away.
