Like unwanted vines
choking a rose bush, it
blocks the sun and rain
until delicate buds,
nearly ready to bloom

Whither and fade-
Their true colors
never allowed to
grace the garden

I would miss your
beautiful colors
even more than
those of the roses

So, let’s face our
grief together, and
let tears fall like a steady
rain, reviving wilted buds

And with open arms
invite others who are
hurting to join us until
we are wholly comforted

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Matthew 5: 4