In verdant spring, the faithful soul awakes,
And trusts the Triune God’s eternal word;
Through tender buds, new life its promise takes,
And blooms where once the barren earth was stirred.

In summer’s blaze, they stand with fragrance sweet,
Relying firm upon His steadfast grace;
Petals unfurled in noonday’s fervent heat,
Adoring Him who holds them in their place.

When autumn comes with golden leaves that fall,
They yield their beauty in surrender’s art;
Yet trust remains, though colors fade and pall,
For roots drink deep from promises apart.

In winter’s frost, when snows entomb the ground,
The rose lies dormant, veiled in silent night;
But faith endures—no chill can hold it bound,
For God’s sure vow revives it into light.

Through every turn of season’s ceaseless wheel,
They bloom, they rest, they bloom again in praise;
Believing, trusting, adoring what is real—
The promises of God through endless days.

Thus do the righteous flourish like the rose,
Planted in grace, where wilderness rejoices;
Their fragrance rises where the desert grows,
And heaven smiles upon such faithful voices.