The Rose of the Heart

Every soul has a garden and in the garden's center Is the beating heart, made porous for to enter The good or the bad, each with seeds of. We must choose to plant seeds of hate or Love. When we plant seeds of Love we empower Our garden's beauty with each added flower. But if we plant hate's bad, bitter seeds, Our garden will become infested with its weeds. But in each and every garden there is and grows, In the very center at least one rose. Though it may be secluded behind prickly thorns, The rose still remains, every heart adorns. If the garden is infested with bad, bitter weeds, The rose, then secluded, its beauty thus recedes, Until from the host, the rose becomes lost, Convincing the host, the rose's been tossed. With the host not feeling like it has any beauty, The indifferent host, relinquishes their duty To care any longer what in their garden grows, With their beauty lost, the beauty of their rose. As others pass on by, seeing with their eyes, Make judgment accordingly and do not realise What they are seeing is a projected version, Not worthy of their time, hence choose aversion. Only when another who in their garden grows, An abundance of Love and who feeds their rose, Comes along and takes a look closer than the rest, Will see what's behind, their beauty and their best. But such a soul is unique and is rare to find For so many others are impaired and blind Because of the way and how they choose to see, A limited vision then becomes a guarantee. Only a soul who sees with their heart besides their eyes Will be able to see beyond what another does disguise. Only such a soul who sees, then cares and Loves enough Will tackle thorns and weeds to call another's bluff. When such a soul with a Loving heart Cares enough to enter, search to impart, Their finding of the rose, the other's inner beauty, Revealing to its host becomes their pleasure, duty. Oftentimes, souls when lost from their rose Can no longer see that their beauty still glows And so they concede to the power of the horns, Thinking their garden can only grow thorns. So another soul is needed to show them the way Where beauty still exists, is still on display; Help them to nurture in their innermost part To multiply their beauty, the rose within their heart. When we approach gardens that seem so overgrown With many weeds and thorns, no flowers are there shown, We shouldn't just assume there's no beauty to be found, But invest a little time to have a better look around. We may be surprised to uncover and expose, Behind all the brambles is beauty in a rose. If we help the gardener to bring the rose out, Nurture it and feed, more beauty it will sprout. Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly ©2015-02-02 05:38:00 (EST) All rights reserved.