Buried deep within the dark and furtive soil,
Of our imagination,
The sharp seed lies where sunís light
Cannot reach it;
So I must ponder upon what feeds
That fatal, poisoned seed.
I hear fear drenched words of vengeance,
Unstoppable, carelessly seeping,
Reaching to the seeds straining to release
Violent burning shoots;
Clamouring to reach the earth, and strangle
Beauty flowering still.
I desire to hoard the flowers safely away
From grasping tentacles,
So sift the earth through my fingers
Again, then again;
Searching through the dank soil for that
Kernel of pain.
As the soil imprints upon my palmís pattern
I see others,
Thrusting bulbs haphazardly into the soil unknown,
And I know;
Their anticipation will wilt in springís dawn
As weeds grow.
They laugh at my superstition as they
Blame irregular seasons,
But steadfast I shall sift the earth,
And sift again;
Planting certain roots in nurtured earth, waiting
For winterís end.
For what I seek in sifting is
Edenís richer soil,
The brighter endless day wherein the shadows
Cease their toil;
Where free the roses fuller grow, the
Vineyard brightly blossoms.
Where Grace is beauty and my soul
Need not strain,
To hear my Lord and saviourís call:
ĎArise, my love Ė
Come sing, for summerís home and we
Rise joyfully above!í
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be right now. CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.