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.