I Know There Is No Perfect Rose
September 25th, 2007 by Linda Jenkinson- The rose which bloomed just yesterday
- Conceals the seed of its decay.
- Whose grasping fingers creep and reach
- Until each petal has been breached.
- Sepal by sepal the bloom will fall,
- ‘Til nothing remains of the rose at all.
- Now, understanding, I can see
- That I am what was meant to be.
- Knowing this, I finally find
- The path that leaves the past behind.
- Even as the blossom wanes
- I set my eyes ahead again.
- Though I may bloom imperfectly
- I still may bloom resplendently.
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