And upon a day,
while walking among the flowers of his teacher’s garden, did the child speak unto the Mystic:
“Some men claim that this life
is the darkness of a curse,
and a punishment to be endured
for all our wicked ways.
Oh Mystic, what say you of life ?”
And the Mystic answered:
“I say that life is neither a curse nor a punishment,
But a rose filled with the beauty of desire.
The stem of the rose is your life upon this earth,
The thorns, painful lessons you bring unto
yourself, that you might learn.
The leaves are those joys that enter
your life with the tenderness of an unseen Love.
Curse not the sorrow of your thorns,
for the deeper they cut unto the heart of
your being, the greener the leaves of joy shall be.
The tiny bud is your soul, waiting to
bloom with the truth of God among its petals.
Slowly will your flower unfold,
that you might not become lost
within the fragrance of its secret.
And when the rose is at the height of its beauty,
Shall you not see the pureness of God
smiling from the very center of your Being ?”
by Daniel Miller
from Song Of The Mystic:
The Phophet’s Candle – Spiritual and Mystical Poetry