On the last page, a question lingers around,
A little gem for the reading crowd.
“Look up at the sky,” the book does implore,
And you start to ponder what you read before.

“Has the sheep eaten the flower?” you ask yourself,
A cosmic riddle, revealing itself.
For in this thought, the universe sways,
And shifts our view in wondrous ways.

If the flower still stands - proud and untouched,
Is the sheep’s hunger forever unhushed?
Would it dream of petals, soft and sweet,
While munching on grass beneath its feet?

But if the bloom has met its fleecy fate,
Is the prince’s planet now desolate?
Would stars shine dimmer in the night,
Mourning the loss of that floral light?

No grown-up sees why this matters so,
But children understand the question’s glow.
In pondering sheep and flora’s dance,
We glimpse the magic of happenstance.

Perhaps in asking, we become more wise,
Seeing the world through children’s eyes.
For in life’s garden, strange and vast,
It’s wonder, not logic, that truly lasts.

So gaze at the heavens, mind roaming free,
Imagine the possibilities you might see.
But watch out for a question, horrific, yet deep:
What if the flower ate the sheep?