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"And I am a rose who remembered me"

As We Remember Us in December Roses are like us our story the same I think as I trace our trajectory From bud to bloom into our fullblown fame Fleeting as ever and passing away Like those who went ahead had said it could To what remains at the end of the day The way those who are dead now knew it would A shrug and a smile and a memory A feeling of having been understood When that is enough then ultimately Youth becomes age and no one is to blame It is how it is and was and will be As water breaks stone and as fire burns wood Living and dying are best beyond shame By common sense and toward the common good If uncommonly and like you and me To be considered beautiful then when Remembering to forget our regret We demonstrate mortality again Having been and done the best that we could Roses are like us our story the same Because it is the way of living things To come and go but live our very best Then in our moment to give life our all At the end of the day burnt offerings Gathered for harvest like leaves in the fall Dust into ashes roses into flame When earth takes all and air bears the ember Acceptable sacrifice for the rest As the roses in the Plaza remind Of what is ahead of what is behind Us in December as we remember But all any living thing wants to be Is happy or short of that to be free And I am a rose who remembered me As we remember us in December +Steven Curtis Lance Copyright MMX