Doubtful hours Proved by wilted flowers When they scattered Petals, like hopes shattered Hours lasting Years, too many, stashing Up with fears too Heavy, petals that grew. There is a face That darkness can’t erase, Though rain obscure, But always it is pure. Stems stark and bare Stand brave, remember

Did you think To put you in a furnace Would not scorch your skin? To come out gold With easy glee And not the surfacing of sin? Or that boiling water hot Would like a warm bath Scathe you not? Like sinking in so comfortably To fire should come easily?