Roses

  • The Beauty of Motherhood: Our New White Rose

    She is four-years-old, and knows only sunshine. Even when it rains, the sun soon returns for her, and I breathe her in. Like a drug delivering a pure dose of light to every vein. A few moments ago, her sunshine… Continue reading

  • Withering

    A rose. Think of it. How like a rose we are. Beginning as seed, gently, a bud. How we open, slowly, never seeing our petals born; never guessing when, at last, the last will fall. And when we wither, wrinkle… Continue reading

  • How Is A Rose To Grow?

    A rose to meet the morning bright, to grow in cheer, to gather life. Yet day to day the rose does wither, day to day the rose does wither, lost beneath the foggy dreary. Lost. Beneath. How is a rose… Continue reading