Like the Rose

Life is a beautiful thing, like the rose. Life is one of the greatest gifts that god has to offer, like the rose. The rose, with it's velvety soft petals, it's fragrant aroma, it's deep rich colors, it's lovely slender stem, it's magnificent foliage, all things of great beauty. The rose, not without it's dark side. As with all things in life there is a price to pay. The thorns of the rose, so sharp their points, capable of inflicting a piercing wound. The rose, the most prized gift of love, and yet one of the most difficult things to hold without risk of injury. The larger the rose, the greater it's beauty, the larger it's thorns, and the greater the risk of injury. Love is like the rose. I am like the rose. I have faults as do all humans. I have made mistakes. These are my thorns. I know that they have pierced hearts, but how could someone throw away something as beautiful as a rose? There is but one way. To strip away the flower, and to focus upon the thorns, not seeing the rose as it truly is. I know of my thorns. I know how they can wound a heart. I am the rose. The thorns are a part of me, but there is so much more. Things of great beauty no one could throw away, and why would they want to, unless they were unwilling to let them-selves see the rose in all it's splendid glory. If we could just see the forest, instead of only trees. If we could just see the whole rose, instead of only thorns . I don't think anyone could throw away this beautiful rose . Written September 10th, 1996 © on Oct 10 2001 12:24 AM PST   0 • 1