In the most hopeless garden,
A beautiful rose may bloom;
Amidst the thorns and barren earth,
To radiate sweet perfume.

In the darkest of places,
Where no light has ever shone;
The rose blooms there in splendor,
Despite darkness, it has grown.

Without the kiss of raindrops,
Or gentle morning dew;
It still bloomed forth in beauty,
In spite of it all, it grew.

For it gathered the light from deep within,
And drank from the chalice of hope;
There in the most hopeless garden,
In beauty, the rose did grow.

Allison Chambers Coxsey