The Rosebud

By Pierre Joseph Redoute (1759-1840)

It is only a tiny rosebud, a flower of His design,
but I cannot unfold the petals
with these clumsy hands of mine.
The secret of unfolding flowers
is not known to such as I; the rose God opens so sweetly
in my hands would fade and die.
If I cannot unfold the rosebud, the flower of His design,
what makes me think I have wisdom
to unfold this life of mine?
So I'll trust Him for His leading
each moment of every day
and I'll look to Him for courage
each step of the pilgrim way.
For the path that lies before me,
my heavenly Father knows;
I'll trust Him to unfold the moments
just as He unfolds the rose.

-- Anonymous