"There is no profit in this sort of thing / But this means more to me than anything"

fifty-six lines on lines at fifty-six I I always knew I would never be rich Just because I could never be the b-tch Of anybody but was here for me So I have said to myself in my head It hurts but I could get used to the pain No axes to grind with nothing in mind Nothing but nothing nobody to blame Just be and write about it as I do II To see the rosebud open as it grows When by my being I am here for you As who I am until I am no more To be and do though I could not explain What now but how to allow you instead When being has been and doing is done Then by my doing to find it the game Of being to find out what the rose knows III Seeing if maybe by seeking I find The magic word that opens like a key From then and there bringing to now and here Something to bring everything from nothing Like something I remember I forgot Unready to remember until now Like when something was and then it was not As if though it was not it was somehow IV It hurts but I could get used to the pain For something that seems like it could be true And seemingly seeking for me to see No way out of here but to love through fear There is no profit in this sort of thing None I suppose but the word of the rose But this means more to me than anything My sign by which it would if it could be V Something to believe in then afterward When only afterimages remain Before I find what I was looking for In the dark mirror none but love the one Speaking to my mind by calling across The void between a prophet and a loss The prophet blinded could not see what came When the loss became the profit to come VI And speaking its mind the loss left behind Where the laughter of love was overheard As if something was though something was not What yesterday as today is the same Of the stuff of always the thing of some The sum of something then I once forgot Where a rose calling across the void knows Now I remember here though at ember VII And should the rose remember me again Love would be good to know in December It hurts but I could get used to the pain After the laughter once more like before The game when the rose names the magic word After the fear the love I remember There is no profit in this sort of thing But this means more to me than anything +Steven Curtis Lance Copyright MMXI