When my world feels pinched
And dry, I look at the roses you sent.
They arrived like messengers
From a far-off country
With urgent news–
Two dozen sweetheart faces from dark red
To pale pink, yellow, orange, peach,
And a soft cream the color
of vanilla and old lace.
Every time I see them,
Relaxed and blooming now that
All their traveling is done
Their soft faces urge me
To take a deep breath and remember
I can relax and bloom too
Having read their message:
There are places in the world where beauty grows
Even now, in the middle of winter.