Perfection

A flower growing on a rough piece of ground in Malta.

Look at this flower,
I can see God's artistic hand,
I can feel His undisputed power,
As it lies gently on the land.

It is impossible to measure,
What this beauty is worth,
It's creation provides a treasure,
To adorn the mother earth.

I look at the clarity,
The flower is so pure,
There simply is no parity,
And God is here I'm sure.