As the rose begins to open,
the beauty begins to shine.
The tender velvet pedals,
release from a small bud.

Flowing  into maturity,
to behold the beauty.
The true nature of love,
wraped then to be spread.

Waiting to catch the teardrops,
falling from the blue sky,
To catch the tears,
of a child or mother.

To brighten the day,
of a friend or brother.
A sister or daughter,
a wife or a lover.

The rose bud unfolds,
to catch what it can.
The miracle of life,
we can hold in our hand.