Something feels sooo wrong to me about the thorns of a rose being removed.
In the same way woman has been domesticated;
Her wildness and her fierce aspects tamed and shamed,
A rose with her thorns removed smells like patriarchy to me.
One of the reasons I love picking my roses from the rose farm rather than buying from the florist, is because they have their thorns intact.
As one of my beautiful teachers Jo Bell Cummings says- a rose with her thorns intact is a rose with her medicine intact I wholeheartedly agree 
Thorns are as precious and sacred to me as the bloom
I love the sensation of the thorns when I gently press them against the soft pad of my fingers;
Or the call to presence I receive when I accidentally encounter a thorn when arranging my cut roses
I’ve stepped on their discarded stems, and drew blood more than once! 
Rose can evoke pleasure and pain alike … yet her love transcends and includes them both.
Or sometimes when I’m strolling through the rose gardens, my flowing attire gets stuck to a thorn, inviting me to slow down; to pay more attention
Such fierce guardians they are!
Thorns to me feel like the healthy masculine – the knight archetype – manning the gates of the castle where the Queen takes her throne.
They allow her to feel safe To be seated in her power and glory
And most of all- her heart;
Without having to defend herself .
She is protected.
This aspect exists within ourselves
Thorns to me are healthy boundaries
They speak of self-respect
I’m being initiated into this in a very big way right now
Well – this has been rather ongoing – but there’s a new level being called for now.
I know my thorns need to be intact
This rose heart wants to bloom ever more
This queen wants to serve love ever more
Oh and by the way – how great is it that the words “thorn” and “throne” are so similar?!!
Rose is a Queen, and so are you
Bare your thorns
And take your throne
Love, Jasmine Rose 
