Drops of scarlet
Around a thornless rope of green,
Pooled in a pond of mud,
Crushed and scattered.

The tortured rose
Lay beneath its thorny crown,
Mocked and beaten badly,
Counted worthless.

A white ribbon
Declared "to my beloved",
Before fading away,
Muddied and torn.

Three days later,
The rose had disappeared.
Then a man came to town,
Dressed in white robes.

He said, "To you
I gave My love and life,
Yet you threw it away.
I bear the scars.

"But I still love
You, and offer once more
The gift of salvation,
Bought with My blood.

"Will you accept?"

-Anne B. Caitlin