The Rose – The Flower of Love

The Rose is known as the Queen of the Flowers, according to my Language of Flowers book. And I believe it. But why should the queen be the only flower with thorns? And doesn’t it seem like the thorns are only there to protect her from man not from other living creatures. Only fallen man would have the selfish desire to pluck a beautiful flower from her vine in order to encase her in a vase. In paradise I imagine we are always surrounded by flowers, so there is no need to take, only enjoy.


“But he who dares not grasp the thorn should never crave the rose.” ― Anne Brontë

“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.” ― Abraham Lincoln



The rose as a metaphor for life is an old one. Beautifully depicted in the book The Little Prince

“And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

“People where you live,” the little prince said, “grow five thousand roses in one garden… yet they don’t find what they’re looking for…

They don’t find it,” I answered.

And yet what they’re looking for could be found in a single rose, or a little water…”

And the little prince added, “But eyes are blind. You have to look with the heart.”

“You are beautiful, but you are empty. One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you — the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars; because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or bloated, or even sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.”

“Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete? Proving nature’s laws wrong, it learned to walk without having feet. Funny, it seems to by keeping it’s dreams; it learned to breathe fresh air. Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else even cared.”    Tupac Shakur



Pretty Pink Rose

That rock ‘n’ roll lady takes a spaceship ride
She’s out of this world
A pretty pink rose
She tore down Paris on the tail of Thom Paine
But the left wing’s broken the right’s insane
A pretty pink rose
Have a nice day, it’s a killer, turn a cheek
It’s a Christian code
A pretty pink rose
She’s the poor man’s gold, she’s the anarchist crucible
Flyin’ in the face of the despot cannibal
Pretty pink rose
Never let it rain
Never rain… on the heart of the pretty pink rose
And we’re living for you my love
Yes, we’re living for you
And we’re dying for you my love
Pretty pink rose
“According to an eastern fable, the rose was white when God created it, but when, as it unfolded, it felt Adam’s eyes upon it, it blushed in modesty and turned pink.”
Victor Hugo

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