I caught the fragile essence of a rose
that floated from the pinnacle of pain
and wafted through my senses. In the deep
encrusted caverns of my heart, I felt
an indescribable, compelling rush
of joy—unfettered, boundless joy—and as
it bubbled to the surface seeking out
the path of least resistance to the light,
I clung to earth, awash in healing tears.
It comes and goes, but always leaves a gift:
Love’s fragrance clings to all the rose has touched.
2002 Mary Boren