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There is a rose who hides from me. But...
how long can she stand to do that?!

And... WHY?!

I've been only a friend to her... and yes...
long ago, sometimes, much more than a friend;
yet, her petals have turned to ice,
when faced with the thought of seeing me again;
of speaking with me again.

She's bared her thorns,
and she hides among the living.
She knows who she wants to be,
yet she's never known... who she is.

Once, the sun shone briefly upon her petals,
yet now... she hides from the sun,
and her icy petals...

when they thaw...

will simply wilt,

if she refuses
to drink of the sun
that longs to bathe her
in its nurturing warmth;

For one day... soon... it will be too late.

Copyright (c) Jeff Mason