a thousand flowers grew
With fragrances so sweet and pure
and perfectness of hue
One day my Father beckoned me
and bid me enter in
Before he shut the garden gate
with love his voice began
"My child this day choose ye a seed
use wisdom in thy choice
And I will plant it in your heart
to harvest and rejoice."
I walked upon his garden path
searching out my flower
Understanding each bud offered fruit
knowing each one's sacred power
Deep down inside my spirit knew
reluctantly is chose
With pain I plucked a thorny stem
for I love the briar rose
Its petals embraced his charity
each bud would promise spring
Although its stem proved painful
it stood for all my dreams
Slowly I turned to my Father
met with his approving nod
Then he shut the gate behind me,
he placed my hand upon the rod
Upon my journeys path I met
the sores upon my hand
And with the gate shut tight behind
I could not understand
At times I filled with bitterness
then hung my head to cry
With festered pain unbearable
I questioned him on high
Many times I fell in agony
but each time I met my foes
Somehow my heart would pick me up
for it held the briar rose
And when at last I fell to broke
and feared it was my end
A gentle wind swept through my heart
it was my garden friend
With tearstained face he picked me up
and in my heart did sew
The seed of pains grandest fruit
A humbled heart can grow
The garden gate seems far behind
the road ahead too long
Can one expect this mortal hand
to hold with memory gone?
One does not know which foes they'll meet
what heartaches they await
But if one wants to walk with God
praise to the garden gate
For my keeper cultivates my heart
a place his spirit grows
For when thy thorns are held with love
behold thy briar rose
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