surrender of the rose
silently, she kneels before Him,
her head lowering to the floor
in humility,
like none she has ever known.
all pretense gone, all artifice
stripped away
before Him,
her only Love.
it is here that the rose blooms,
comes into flower,
at His feet.
it is here that she is realized,
coming into season,
that she becomes her full self.
she has waited long, watching
for the Gardener that will
tend this delicate rose
once it is His,
for the one who will not cast it aside,
or stomp upon the thorned stem,
tearing at the silken petals,
but will nourish it with His love,
His patience,
His understanding,
His very soul.
"i am Yours, my Master,
my Beloved."
she feels the last vestiges of her soul
torn free of the earthly shell,
a bloom plucked from the garden
with one small gasp
at the exquisite release.
her wide eyes gaze up at Him
her World in one Man,
her surrender found
in the loss of herself
in His eyes
and gentle caress.