The Rose


Perhaps life is NOT full of sweet spots. Perhaps I misrepresented the truth when I named my book—Life Is Full of Sweet Spots.

I thought this as my soul chattered and wept in the wake of yesterday’s anything but sweet attack at the Boston Marathon, barely four months following the shootings at Sandy Hook. How could I possibly have named a book pronouncing that joy may be found all around us, in places as simple as the earth, the sea and sky?

Is there really joy to be found in a rose? In the woods, the sea, a sunflower? Just listen to Barbara Parsons, for one—one with a far from joyful life—who reflected in the book’s opening chapter on the question of whether or not there is joy to be found in flowers. Yes, she tells us, there is: “They bring me a peace and contentment. They allow me to find joy.”

Yes, there ARE sweet spots. And, yes, life IS absolutely full of them!


In memory of all victims of terror

Did you see the sunlight tremble

as it touched that pale and spent petal—

fallen just now to the ground?

How is it that a blossom so delicate,

so softly pink and flushed, can be

counted on to fill some mortal void

with comfort as sure as the heavens

are filled with stars, offering

its fragrant petals, pure and without blemish,

pouring consolation from the open cup

of its huge beauty.

Photo and poem, The Rose, by Mary O’Connor, Dreams of a Wingless Child. © 2007

2 thoughts on “The Rose

  1. I try to remember, always, that this world is about balance – like the yin yang symbol. For every evil deed, there is a kind one. For every painful moment, there is an ecstatic one. For every sorrow, there is joy…somewhere.


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