A narrow path we walk along
through which we choose
between the thorn and rose;
between the thorn that pricks
and the rose that blossoms
But sometimes roses puncture
and thorns sprout budding flowers
so beware of shadowy concealment
and timid grace learning to stand alone
and look beyond the outer shell
to that heart that speaks truly
We walk along in death and dirt
where flowers stir from hidden depths
with worldly wisdom are we led astray;
but by Him who saves
are we washed clean
in baptismal waters
may we truly discern
the morally upright
of which responsibility lies
to us, to you, to I
to learn, to teach, to discern
the good from bad
and the flower from the weed
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