The rose is not afraid to blossom
Though it knows its pedals must fall
And with its pedals fall seeds into soil
Why toil to contain it all?
Why toil at all?

Ice crystals form from flakes of heaven
Fall down weightless to the earth
To them it’s worth the falling
Through atmospheres a-dawning
And open arms a-calling
To collect and protect all the raining
Insane from above
The lonely angel dust
The only angel does…