the story of a rose

A single deep red
        dew doused
            half bloomed rose
                stands wilting
                    under a fading rainbow.
How can we save it
        from the hateful
            frigidly passionless
                grey clouds
                    of a world gone stark raving mad?
You take your love filled
        kindness willed
            warm hearted fingers
            and dig a hole around it.
Feel the damp
        cold dirt between them
            as you lift the dirt
                below the rose
                    out of the ground
                        and carry it home with you.
You choose a serene blue
        newly washed
            hand carved
                flower pot and put the rose inside it.
You water it gently every day
        and talk to it softly
            after a long days work
                and love it unconditionally.
Relentless time ticks away
        day after day
            and the rose blooms twice
                that year.
It continues to grow
        as you cherish it so
            and in two years time
                you plant its children in your peaceful garden.
That rose may never see another rainbow
        or feel the meadows dew
            or even ever boom again
                but that rose was blessed
                    because it had you
                        and I suppose
                            that you were lucky too.