WILD ROSES

The master planted a garden and left it for me to tend
But pride overcame my innocence I had a spirit unwilling to bend
I let the garden of my soul fall to a shambles
No fruit to be found among the brambles

And the winter made me a bargain
It taught me to defend against the cold
But the price I paid was more than can be told
The search for clarity left me stranded in some dark infinity
Where even the healing breath of spring wouldn't come

All there was left was a tangle of thorns
Though the roots went deep the garden wouldn't bloom
All there was left was a tangle of thorns
A lonely soul living in gloom

And once the darkness had fallen the crows sent out the word to stay away
And without the birds the last bit of green turned grey, the garden was a ruin
But the master still cherished the garden and set about to mend the damage done
By the elements and neglect and one small flower bloomed out of respect
Then quickly faded, you see delicacy had been traded for strength

And though the branches were barren, they had no fear of the wind
And though the soil was hardened the water ran deep within
And the garden grew
Tangled but true

Then the master sent me an angel whose eyes rained down the dew
And brought forth roses from the thorns with a hand steady and true
And what before had just seemed tangled was redefined 
As wild; wild and beautiful

So if you're out there one day walking and you come across a tangle of thorns
Remember out of such the wildest roses are born
If you can see through the tendrils and vines
There is beauty in the struggle
It's all in the master's design

Wild roses