There is a flower that grows
a beauty unlike any other
a beautiful scent so unique
I give to you my mother.
Your voice I long to hear
it matters to me now
Is there none to match it?
If so, Lord show me how.
My heart longs for a season
to which this flower will bloom
But no season will behold it
So it's scent rests in ruin
There is a day to come
when it's blossom will return
My soul beholds the waiting
as a bride awaits her groom.
In desperation my soul cries out
How can God fill this space?
Will he bring back the scent
to put a smile back on this face?
There is a season for all ceased blooms
when again their scent will fill the earth
A time waiting in Holy secret
When flesh gives way to eternal birth.
