To stand and stay where we are born
is as the flower is to the thorn,
a gift that comes from nurtured past,
a sun that burns through shadows cast.
To roam and seek for pathways new
is as the sand is to the dew,
a rain to quench the deserts drought,
a life well lived to banish doubt.
And when at some unwanted end
the path will seem a foe or friend,
a life through which your choices groomed
the flower or thorn to which you bloomed.