It is only a tiny rosebud
A flower of Gaia's design;
But I cannot unfold the petals
With these clumsy hands of mine.
The secret of unfolding flowers
Is not known to such as I.
Gaia opens this flower so sweetly,
Then, in my hands, they die.
If I cannot unfold a rosebud,
The flower of Gaia's design,
Then how can I have the wisdom
To unfold this life of mine?
So, I'll trust in Her for leading
Each moment of my day.
I will look to Her for Her guidance
Each step of the Pilgrim's way.
The pathway that lies before me
Only Mother Nature knows.
I'll trust Her to unfold the moments,
Just as She unfolds the rose.