ROSE

By

Brooke Jurgenson

Seed.
Secured beneath the soil,
Spreading of thy roots.
Stuck in a choking coil,
With nowhere to offshoot.

Sprout.
Suddenly struck by the light,
Suffering from the air’s embrace,
She climbs till night,
Yearning for the roots’ embrace.

Shoot.
Surrounded by the foreboding trees,
Sensing the futility of life,
Suppressing her urge to freeze
Amidst the winter strife.

Thorn.
Trapped in this withered existence,
There is no other choice but to fight.
There is no other choice but resistance,
For she must survive the brutal winter night.

Rose.
Rising above the pain of the past,
Releasing the rouge of the future,
Rejoicing in life at last,
She is forever flourishing.