THE INFINITE ROSE
The scarlet sky cries in the twilight,
Ripples in the water, melt mirrored sight,
The setting sun dances like sparks on the river,
The next day not knowing what life may deliver,
There on the bank grows a floral bloom,
The roses number as many as the stars and the moon,
They sing songs of joyful or melancholy tune,
Of lives gone by and those to begin soon,
And of life as we know it - the here and now,
Wind blows through them, and they seem to bow,
To the sounds of some imaginary crowd,
There are those that stand high and tall,
And those that look as though they may fall,
Then there are those that are wells of perpetual life,
Upset by no trouble nor any strife,
And some may be seen to die and wither,
There growing on the banks by the river,
But no matter the questions life may pose,
There is always and forever - the infinite rose.