A Rose and Her Thorn

A rose speaks…

A rose speaks to her thornWith sorrow in her voiceO dear thorn you live on and onAnd I part without a choice

You grow mighty day by dayWhilst I sway with the airI yearn to be in your placeThis ache of dying is not fair

A thorn speaks…

A thorn speaks to his roseO dearest one I live it tooLike a child I see you growThen I die again with you

Even before you bloom againRose bush still remains my nameAnd I rejoice in the rainSuch is the beauty of this game

Now the thorn whispers…Dearest one I blossom through youWe hold mysteries of divineSacred hymns yet to appearAnd the songs of celestial wine

The rose wonders…Dearest one can this be trueThat we hold such splendorYet I suffer day and nightO why am I then so tender

The thorn whispers again…Tender ones hold the TruthSee our stillness smileThe eye of the Eternal oneCalls upon us to dance awhile

The rose still speaks…The thorn still whispers…