Life is not always easy for the Bramble, for there are many weeds which grow among his branches. These weeds distract from the beauty of his blossoms and mar the fruit of his branches. Saddened by these persistent weeds, the bramble clings even more to the Tree in the middle of the garden. For what hope has the Bramble except in the Cross, except in the great mercy of so tender a Gardener as the Lord.
Long has the Bramble tarried in the fight against these weeds, in particular to one most persistent weed. Among all the weeds, this one has caused the Bramble the most grief, for it grows tall and proud among his branches. What hope then does the bramble have against this fight, except to cling ever more to the Tree, to trust in the goodness and wisdom of so great a Gardener.
Inspired by the hope; that is, in the love the Gardener has for His garden, the Bramble trusts in the wisdom of so great and good a Caretaker. For what can the Bramble do but reveal this weed to the Gardner. To ask Him to prune it as He wills, or even to uproot it if possible. In this way the Bramble asks for Mercy, seeking from the Gardner the good, and asking for his help.
Oh, merciful Lord, look kindly on the Bramble, and despise not his petition for help. Come to his aid and uproot this weed which has settled among his branches. Let its ugliness not persist but show favor to your servant and pluck it out, so that renewed, the Bramble may praise and glorify You, the Gardner of so great a garden. Amen.
The Bramble of the Lord 