There once was a girl.
She was tender and sweet,
and loved all those she met.
Even the thorny honey bee.
The world told her she was wrong,
Too delicate and weak.
Love was weakness and
her heart would be trampled.
Frightened, the child vowed to change.
She hid her love deep down
and surrounded her heart with thorns.
She promised to treat her love with caution.
As she grew, she learned to quiet the raging river.
She taught herself to give the show
of calmness, ignored her emotions.
She knew they only grew deeper.
As an adult, her heart was firmly locked in it’s prison
But after years of thorns wrapping around her
She began to spit up thorns as she talked
Shooting barbs of anger at those she loved.
Not desiring to harm her loved ones,
She vowed not to speak until
the prickly thorns around her heart were gone.
She cast herself out, refusing any help.
As she wandered, she found only loneliness,
which only increased her anger.
The thorns tightened even more around her heart.
She feared she would never be rid of them.
But one day as she wandered, she met The Gardener.
The Gardener took her in, and back to nature.
She again saw the honey bee she once loved,
with it’s fierce stinger but producing the sweetest honey.
The Gardener then taught her to till the land,
she released her anger into the soil she turned,
and they watched as love grew.
And one day, The Gardener planted roses for her.
They bloomed, strong and wild,
Both in the garden and in her heart, among the remaining thorns.