The RoseA Poem by PeteToday I stopped to pick a rose. From a
burning bush, the finest one I chose. The final fruit from summer spent. I held it close and breathed its scent. In my hand, I stood and
listened. In the sun, red petals glistened. It was perfect, a gift from
God. Its stem and thorns did not seem odd. Deeming it special, I wanted
it preserved. So I tossed it in the water near where two rivers
converged. At first the flower peacefully floated. I stood and watched
and silently gloated. Then the rushing waters came. My feelings turned
from pride to shame. But it made it through by gently spinning. That’s
how we survive and enjoy the winning. The waters continued to take it
away. I turned and stepped to start my day. Later I thought about that
rose. It’s my life, the one I chose. The ones we love, we must hold
close. That is how we get the most. But when the strong waters of life
come, it does not mean that we are done. We cannot deny who we are, even
if life takes us far. Later I returned because I needed to see. That
rose had moved on. That rose was me ...
© 2018 PeteAuthor's Note
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7 Reviews Added on December 14, 2015 Last Updated on May 21, 2018 AuthorPeteBoston, MAAboutI love reading, writing, music, nature, God and feeling emotion, not necessarily in that order. To me, these things go hand in hand. My favorite writer is Henry David Thoreau. I think he was a geni.. more..Writing
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