Pieces of the past
lay at my feet
Like shattered glass
I try to arrange them all nice and neat

And then,
I get cut.

I quickly call on the only one for me,
The one who calmed the sea,
Only he can arrange the pieces for me
Into a thing of beauty, you see?

Slowly the pieces fade away,
The darkness turns to day,
Up arises a thing of great beauty,
A rose that Jesus hands to me.

As I look at the Rose,
I see there are no thorns,
I hold it to my nose,

And I smell,
Aroma unmistakably one no one has ever worn,
A beauty beyond compare,
A delicate rose, white and fair.

You see,
Out of the pain of the past
If you let God take over,
Something of Beauty will arise that will last,
Forever, just as it did for me!

Written By Paula Chapman
April 22, 2005
Copyrighted. All rights reserved.

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