Beautiful Withered Petals

Beautiful Withered Petals

A rose creased, pressed between parchment of time
All that remains are withered petals; so dry, so fine
Delicate; for no living element was able to conserve
But beautiful, now a shadow; attempted to preserve.

For the rose is given at times, so sorrowful as such
Its thorns are painful to the touch; oh, so very much.
Memories etched indelibly in mind; with love, care
The beautiful rose, a memory, quite fragile and rare.

Memories are like petals, woven definitely, sublime
Fragments of hurt, eventually, dissipate in time
Gently, memory weaves time; keeping us all aware.
Reminding us of gifts, the Chosen One's future heir.

Will the hurtful memories sting as painful as thorns?
Our eyes reflect the pain within, grappling and forlorn
Memories are a part of us, gently passing with time
Things happen not by happenstance; but by design.

To see beyond withered petals; appreciate the rose
Most precious gifts in a box, neatly wrapped in bows.
I will write pages of time; pressed against my face
Appreciate beauty; contains God’s mercy, grace.