The Rose In Winter

Once upon a time in the gardens there was a beautiful rose. It's beauty was rapturous. Of to what could it be compared? Each year in Spring it would cry it's rebirth and announce to all the world of it's glorious beauty but as with all flowers it's veiled reflection dimmed with the first snows of winter. Sleeping it layeth to once again with Spring's awakening be born unto vastness of majestic jewels. A precious gem that rivaled the most wondrous of exquisite deities. Pious reflections of nature ingrained into the threshold of life's beauty. It so happened that while walking amidst the flowers a little girl stopped to admire the beautiful rose. She thought about the differences and looked up to her mother only to say to her" Mother, always when things are bright and cheerful this beautiful rose amazes the world with it's colors but in times of darkness and despair you see this rose wither but it never truly dies as other flowers". "Why is this mother"? Lovingly her mother replied " The rose is as love. When in times of happiness love is as a shining star but in love as with rose there are oftentimes thorns which betray the valley's of sadness and to all outwardly appearances love would seem to wither and die; but true love though not seen is strongest when definitive bleakness and darkness fill the soul". So the rose when seen through our eyes should remind us that truest beauty comes not in Spring but in darkest night in Winters keeping.