As God Unfolds the Rose

It was so small and tightly curled, this rosebud in my hand
And in my haste to see it bloom, I pulled on silken strand

Each satin pink rose petal, I stripped away to find
Another yet more firmly curled, to the next it seemed to bind

In grim resolve I tried to force the bud to blossom out
I thought if I kept on peeling—it would surely come about.

No soft petal resisted my rude fingers, each came away in shreds,
'Til only an ugly stem remained—all its beauty dead.

It struck me then how I am like a rose so tightly curled
Impatient—I sit in the garden of life, just waiting to unfurl

I don't like the stress of living, the heartache, pain or grief
I twist and turn and thrash about—beg God to send relief

But the master Gardener knows how much of each that it will take
To change this bud into a masterpiece that only He can make

And tho' sometimes in vain attempt to make life turn out right
With my clumsy gestures—tangles just become more tight

But if I cease my struggling and submit to Him I know
My life will become what it's meant to be, as God unfolds the Rose.

Copyright ©2006 by Charlotte L. Pound