I.

Through the miracles of Nature
And the whim of Happenstance
Gently flowing, mixing, blowing
Drifting wisps of pollen dance
From a flower to a flower
As with rivers to the sea
What was once the stuff of separates
Blends together naturally
Then the pollen isn't pollen
And the flowing stops its flow
For beneath the whirling currents
Two small plants begin to grow
At the start the shoots are timid
Needing strength and time and sun
But as soon as they are able
Roots and vines explore and run

II.

And then one day something happens
From a touch that was benign
Growing creeper finds the other
As together they entwine
What were once just young green tendrils
Did not see what had begun
Until roses became roses
As buds opened to the sun
A display of crimson blossoms
Each more perfect than the last
Greeted starry-eyed observers
Who stared breathless as they passed
Now the plants took days for granted
Flourished, basking in the sun
And not once did one consider
Life without the other one

III.

But as true as that a river
Cannot alter where it flows
Neither can a growing rosebush
Take control of how it grows
For though both clung to the other
One was forced to grow astray
And one rose was darkly saddened
As her partner moved away
There they stood that way in silence
Seemingly a world apart
Though the memory of closeness
Was still fresh within their hearts

IV.

One fair day there came a young man
Who was certain that he could
See the beautiful rose prosper
Were she cut from where she stood
So he snipped that rose's blossoms
And he put her on display
As he beamed in satisfaction
He enjoyed her every day

V.

But the new-maimed vines snaked wildly
From the mass of bloomless spawn
And the thorns there rent the petals
Of the other that grew on
As the rosebush there stood weeping
Flaming flowers dulled to brown
And while radiant beauty wilted
Cast black blossoms to the ground
Now the roseless bush keeps pining
For his partner far away
And she still is standing, glowing
In that young man's vase today

VI.

So, their story hasn't ended
What will happen, neither knows

But...

Black falls dew on remnants
Of where God once grew a rose.

@)}-|---