Thread: Rose Garden (Story/Poem)

A dream of me standing in a rose garden.
“Why am I here?”
Just as soon as I ask the question,
A voice in my head answers me.
“This is the Rose Garden.
All the girls that you will ever meet are here.
Your going to choose the one for you here.”
“You‘ve got to be kidding me…” I reply to myself.
But who am I talking to?
I wonder around the garden,
Seeing girls pictures next to each rose,
Some roses more beautiful than others.
But with each pretty picture,
A dull or decent flower to me.
With each unappealing girl,
A better but not a flower,
I find attractive.
Then I wonder some more,
And come across a thorn bush.
In behind the bush is a beautiful rose,
But it’s petals fall one be one,
Onto the ground below.
The space is just big enough to reach in,
But it would tear my arm to shreds to reach there.
The picture under the rose is faded,
And dusty so that I cannot see the picture.
“Who is she? It‘s like my dreams,
where I cannot perceive a face.
Could she be my one?”
I hear crying…
Coming from the rose.
And I lean in,
Nearly being scratched by the thorns.
“Who‘s crying?” I ask.
My inner voice answers…
“It is a girl,
Who lost a love.
She needs someone to love now.”
The last few petals of the rose remain.
Only 4 left standing….
Then 3...
“She‘ll be crushed if you do not,
Comfort her… but once you grab the rose,
That will be your choice….
She will be your love.”
I hesitate… fearing of not liking this girl,
Then another petal falls….
This could be my last chance to be happy.
Knowing this and seeing it as fact,
I grit my teeth and reach inward,
Getting my arm torn by the thorns.
Blood trickles from my arm,
On all sides,
But I move forward.
I’m just out of reach,
And the rose is looking pale.
Another petal falls,
“No…. only one left….
I have… to reach it…”
With one last push,
Leaning my face against the thorns.
Blood flows from my brow,
And starts towards my eyes,
But I refuse to close them.
I‘m within finger‘s grasp… but the petal falls…
“NO!!!”
I reach out and grab the petal,
Before it hit’s the ground.
Instantly, the thorns go away.
My blood flows backwards,
And my wounds mend themselves,
As if they had never been torn open.
The rose is restored,
Except for the petal I have,
Is still in my hand.
The picture begins,
To come into view.
It’s the face of my one and only.
“I never thought…”
…
“Is she…”
Still in awe…
I can’t even utter the words,
And I get no answer.
But I have found what I have,
So desperately been searching for.
And it took a trip to the rose garden,
To find my love,
My little rose petal.
I love you.

By: Justin McCormick (K‘ Heart)