Rose Illusions

by Shara Dawn Avery, 1973

I

held a rose

in my

trembling hand

today.

Its beauty

was beyond

words --

it touched

the infinite.

But even

as I watched,

the divine creation

began

to fade,

and thorns,

small and delicate

yet piercing

relentlessly,

implanted

their fatal touch

in my

closed palm.

Even as the beautiful rose,

your youthful

splendor captivated

my

wandering soul.

I grasped eagerly

for the elusive power

and honor

you represented.

But your glory was a myth,

for now I see

the real you --

the frustrations,

the depression,

the wondering moments

when all seems

lost to things

not of this world.

You tear at

the very soul

of humanity,

pitting

one against another

until malice

is no longer

an evil word.

Oh, yes,

your power

is infinite,

but God --

what torment

you make me

endure!