Instead of Bringing Flowers, Be the Roses

Heaven's Hotlines

We’re like the rose
Elegant with beautiful imperfections
Though highly respected
sometimes are neglected
When those petals shrivel into a dark crisp
And it’s life has seemingly been ended

But you see the rose and how it grows
Only lord knows how long it will have it’s life
It buds as a small flower and blooms into a majestic work of art
Praised and worshipped by men
Used to sweep them off their feet and woo women
but when they dry and shrivel up are trashed into a bin

What if we cherished a dark midnight rose
With dark stiff petals that are perceived to be dead?
What if we accepted that a rose is still a rose and a beautiful symbol for how we in our own lives too will grow?
Stunning and bold, full of color and life but one day our ripest of petals will soon fall…

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