| Gazing at Roses |
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I gaze, sadly, at the rose petals. For, they will, soon, be gone; Leaving only stark and ragged stems As loveliness they shed. What use have I of thorns I will quickly thrust aside? With nothing more of softness to fondle, No beauty will I find. I forget that thorns have value, Protection from attack. For, with only thoughts of deepest grief, I want to turn my back. I do not want the sad things, For they speak of fading wood, And I become so melancholy; Cease feeling as I should. I prefer to find a beautiful rose, As that will always please. A rose will bring me sweet perfume, All delight; appease. Take away the thorns, in life, For they bring the deepest pain; Afflicting my heart with sorrow Of such bitter rain. Let me but dance with joy, Along a rose strewn path, With only happiness around me; So I will always laugh. But, then, I saw my Saviour Crowned with cruel thorn. I had to look, again, at Him; Bleeding, cruelly torn. His loving eyes were sad, Tears running down His cheek Right into His heart. The thorns were piercing deep. Jesus wore that crown of thorns So I may know His love. How can I but thank God for their curse; For my life to bloom, above? Give me understanding, Lord, To grasp roses by the thorn. For, they drive me close to you; Where my heart can be re-born. It is only through the raining tears I see true wonder of new life. Your promise, in the pain, That it is only thorns That cause a rose to grow. |
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