The Winter Rose Poem by Pat Kunisch

You must have been born
on a cold winter's night
when a mother's soft eyes
stared into the night,
longing to see
the shadow of Spring
appear 'round the corner
near the town's lonely Inn -

where tulips will grow
and bloom everywhere,
and windmills will smile
at the birds flying there,
where children will play
in salt-fragranced air,
while the chorus of Life
sings its songs.

As ships of the sea
sail into port,
to deliver their cargo or
receive their transport,
so the womb brings forth Life
with a breath and a cry -
her longing for Spring
at last has arrived -

In a little pot on the windowsill
a tiny bloom appeared, quite still -
her soft little bundle
then turned her head -
the rose, flow'r and thorn
from the heart has been shed,
and Rose became her name.