Bittersweet

Can love be known as forlorn?
Do passion's embers burn?
Is a rose a rose without its thorn
Can the road of time not turn?

Can't what gives joy, too, make us weep?
Does healing still not pain?
Is what we hold truly ours to keep?
Will life-giving blood not stain?

Does noble truth not hurt sometimes
Or brilliant rainbow fade?
Doesn't poison ebb as the ivy climbs;
An acorn stunt in the oak tree's shade?

Even as the rock with jagged face
Flaunts dominance over the brook
The gentle water finds its place
To stroke and give a softer look

And though forlorn, a heart will love
And joy will make us weep
The rainbow will return above
And the time washed stone, the stream will keep.