Three Roses

         Three Roses

Three roses, longstem,
Stand alone
And raise their glory high.
Surveying smoke
And haze and gloom
As time ticks slowly by.
They rise above the
Prickly thorns
That line their stems
so straight.
It seems they've risen
High above
Their prickly
Hurtful state.
I wish I too could
Be a rose
And hold my head
So tall.
Not being bent
By circumstance,
Nor scared that I
Will fall.
Instead, this night,
I sit alone
Upon this cold, hard bed.
I fix my eyes on
Filth, and dirt
I do not raise my head.
When will I learn
To stand so tall,
And fix my eyes above?
To take my nourishment
From God?
To feed upon his love?
As roses, all flowers
Reach up high
To seek their
Glorious sun,
I too must learn
To focus
On the Father
And the Son.
Maybe, one day,
Just like the rose,
I'll rise above the fear.
And become strong
And beautiful,
When it's God's love
I mirror.