There’s something to be said for humility.
Take the little white violets, for instance.
They don’t shout. They don’t mind
that they’re not as tall as the grass,
or as bright as the dandelions, or
purple, like their cousins.
They don’t worry whether anyone
notices them or not, whether the sun
shines or the rain falls. They simply open
their sweet little petals, perfume the air,
and say to each other, “Isn’t it a lovely day!”