The Rose Gate

The Rose Gate

The rose blooms with crystals of light,
A many colored butterfly of dreams,
And when I sit in awe of it,
This world is better than it seems.

God has worked through artist’s hands,
Which makes me feel so small,
As though I were the butterfly,
But colored not at all.

The windows to the heavens,
Perhaps which I shall pass,
On my way to Jesus,
When I’ve left this world at last.

The gateway to my savior,
May very well lie here,
And I will finally spread my wings,
My rainbow bright and clear.