(A super ancient 2007 poem I stumbled across in my Yahoo email inbox. Old, but still relevant.)
Fiery Red Rose
Behold! The fiery red rose;
A beauty, an ayah, a sign
A true miracle if we ponder
Its wondrous nature through time.
It starts as a simple seed
So fragile, innocent and yet it knows
That Allah is its sole Creator
And this knowledge nourishes it as it grows…
A thin stick with thorns it becomes
Among an assortment of green leaves
A small round bud that calmly sways,
Enjoying the wind’s playful breeze.
The white clouds fondly look down
At the bud that they must feed
For Allah ordered the sky’s rain
To pour down on the young seed.
Flaming orange, beautiful sky
As the sun warms the wet leaves
And a red petal feels a welcome hug
From the gentle, friendly breeze.
A petal is born, a second blossoms
Until all are here, fiery red
Welcoming the blanket of warmth
From the sun now that they are fed.
A marvel, a beauty, a dazzling sight
Yet the rose becomes arrogant not
It recognizes its Lord’s mercy upon it,
Which came before it was sought.
It continues to grow and blossom,
Determined in colors fiery red
But the rosiness of the red soon drops;
Disappointed, for foe had once been friend…
For the wind that Allah controls once used
To smile and caress the rose
Now howled and quieted the music
Of the singing birds as they froze.
The birds take off and fly to comfort
And a petal falls from the rose in dismay
But it didn’t leave hope; it didn’t leave faith
For it knew its Lord would resurrect it someday…
And off the petals fell, like tears, one by one
Until fiery red the rose was no more
The sky darkened, the leaves coldly shuddered
As something happened like never before…
Soft, white crystal shapes rained down at Allah’s command;
So bright, sparkling, yet agonizing cold from the sky
It was too much for the rosebush to cope with
So it silenced its thoughts, and appeared to die…
But it died with faith, it died with belief
And with this it did not die in vain
Winter soon got tired and spring smiled at last
As Allah commanded the clouds to pour the rain.
The breeze affectionately whispered to the plant
That it was forever its friend
And the bud awakened once more,
Resurrected by his Creator again.
And thus does Allah reveal an ayah, a sign—
That after death, life shall exist indeed
Death is but a breeze, yet only when
In life, faith blossomed from a seed.