A lovely flower grows from the ashes of the fire Blooming splendidly all alone No trace of char or remnants of the flame Still the smell of the smoke isnβt gone
There is no telling residue on the petals One would never know the flowerβs closeness to the flame Stop and smell the rose so lovely in the ash Then see if you still feel the same
The flower is a heart that has continued to exist The only way it knows how to survive Still blooming in the ash but untouched by the fire But alone will the flower continue to thrive
There will come a day when the flower of the heart Can move away from the ashes of the fire Learn to live again in a garden full of flowers And the smell of the smoke will expire