without cutting 
the grass grows wildly 
without pruning
the rose bush weakens 

without truth 
we wear crowns proudly 
without love 
we learn nothing new 

oh, that the thorns did not pierce! 
oh, that the blood did not stain! 

stay not with the woe
in those longing lines
His life conquered death 
for His glory we rise  


*With thanks to Kahlil Gibran’s writings on “Love” in The Prophet