Читать книгу Psalms of Gratitude and Prayer - John J. Brugaletta - Страница 15

This pink and yellow messenger of scent

is in its seventh day and sags.

But if its lovely form is spent,

its gift remains and rises from these rags.

The vase around it stands the same and still,

and offers water like our God.

But roses decompose until

we sniff their memory and think, “How odd.”

How odd that something permanent should take

such pains for temporary bliss.

And yet this vase stands for their sake

and holds their beauty like a lifted kiss.