Once I was a small seed seed growing steadily with my nourishment.

I watched as you became a unique rosebud, fresh and innocent.

Dew laden petals opening gently, beautifully each day,

with thorns still innocent of the new days wonder.

You cannot know how much it hurts as your leaves begin to open,

to see them bruise and brown easily, some drifting off in the gusting wind.

To feel the barb of our strengthening thorns stab deeply,

prick painfully as I touch the center that used to be…

I stand back and watch with hurtful eyes as you try to fight off the elements of nature,

knowing that I must watch closely, but knowing that I have done all that I can,

that beneath the fallen petals and thorny exterior of growth

there is still a beautiful changing core-

always there, harder to see, but stronger and more resilient than ever,

opening slowly, showing your individual colors, I keep my distance,

afraid to disturb the form that is shaping,

but always watching, pruning when necessary, hating the cuts I must make,

but knowing you will come back even more beautiful.

Proudly, I watch as the rosebud opens, blooms in all its glory

and becomes the beautiful blooming flower I always knew was there.

          cheerbear11