for years I've tried to understand
your purpose in this horrible tragedy--
and now that you have taken her,
this vision comforts me.
I see you walking in a garden
your eyes are captured by
a gentle, radiant rosebud
reaching upward to the sky.
You watch her taste the morning dew
and soak in springs warm light.
Her fragile shimmering colors,
luminescent, grace your sight.
You linger long beside her
petals yearning to unfold--
you stop to smell her essence,
fragrance lovely to behold.
I understand now, totally,
how moved you must have been
to clip that bud so new to life
to take her beauty in.
I see you place her on your table
in your favorite earthen vase
to watch her glorious opening
happen right before your face.
I've walked on early mornings
and I've clipped a bud or two
to watch the layered petals slowly open to my view…
so I withdraw my judgement
that you nipped her in the bud
and feel--with more forgiveness
that you chose her out of love.
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