Sometimes God picks the flower
That is still in full bloom;
Sometimes the rosebud’s chosen
That we feel he’s picked too soon.
Sometimes the flower is fading
With petals floating down,
But God knows the perfect time
To gather flowers from the ground.
There is a heavenly garden
In which God takes great pleasure
Because He’s placed within it
The loved ones that we treasure.
He walks among the blossoms
Giving them eternal rest,
And I know that it must please Him
Because He chose our very best.
This entry was posted
on Sunday, June 1st, 2008 at 10:39 pm and is filed under Art, Family, Humanity, Religion, philosophy.
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