The Hidden God

I raise my rose to peel away God's soul,
secluded in its petals and its heart,
does its rare beauty issue from the whole
or from some inner secret of its art?

What kind of an imagination draped
the shaded crimson colors on its form,
whose sense of symmetry serenely shaped
the velvet petals cuddled soft and warm?

God seems to hide some precious part of Him
beneath a flower's exuberance and style,
our genius can't create one whit the whim
that splashed a million blossoms mile by mile.

If He concocts His blooms with so much fuss,
how much more must He hide Himself in us.

                      -- by Pete Voelz          6/05