A Rose Grew From Ice - 3/8/13

When your warm heart ignited mine,
A rose grew from ice.
My passion unearthed.
The beauty birthed.
Light created by the flame,
The flame lit by accident,
The accident planned by divine hands.
How it happened still leaves me quizzical,
But the unexpected yielded the unequivocal.
Passion never dies,
But dormant it can lie.
Covered by bruises,
And the scars gained when one loses,
It will slowly become inactive...we are often clueless.
A dim light still shines,
So we think all is fine, in our minds.
In our hearts though,
We know the truth.
It really doesn't take a sleuth.
We are aware of when our fires are weak,
And it's typically when we assume our outlooks are bleak,
Especially when it's love and affection that we seek.
Mine had decided that since it felt unrequited,
It would pipe down, slowly die down, and be quiet.
I was once gung-ho,
Always down to try it...
But as maybes became 'we haven't spoken lately,'
Doubt took hold, and there was no way to pry it.
Doubt is threaded with spiritual fears
And full of spiritual tears...
A wet rag that will smother one's flame.
It eventually has to be wrung out,
Contributing to one's shame by forcing someone to take part in their own blame.
But before that could happen,
I met someone pivotal.
The unexpected yielded the unequivocal;
How it happened still leaves me quizzical.
The accident planned by divine hands,
The flame lit by accident.
Light created by the flame,
The beauty birthed.
My passion unearthed.
A rose grew from ice,
When your warm heart ignited mine.

-A. Lewis