The year is now almost flown,
Its darkened head like an ageing bough,
Hangs down in the wood and now,
Lays its heavy burden down.
In the spring time of its birth,
Like bird-song in the distant hills,
That echoes through the wood and thrills,
Sunlight warmed the happy earth.
Summer brought the golden beech,
That hid the nesting robins young,
And all along the glades there hung
Dancing leaves to flowers speech.
Suddenly the autumn came,
Cold mists like landfills heavy silt,
Hiding the bough of heavy guilt,
That stood in naked shame.
Deep the shadows of the wood,
Paralysed and stripped of choice,
Held the secrets, stilled the voice,
Where a little tree once stood.
In winters day of ice and snow,
That froze the brittle twig and branch,
There came at last a waited chance,
When love came by and whispered low.
In the darkness of the night
That closed itself in frozen pain,
Love came and said to live again,
“Climb up. Climb up with all your might.”
“You are like my lamb,” Love said,
And I shall never let you go,
“Love holds although it does not show,
And will not break if you are dead”.
The year is gone, the new is come,
Love’s music echoes in the night,
Love’s song lifts the lamb to light,
Remembering that they are one.
Deep in the middle of the wood,
Love holds forever in our heart,
With arms about that cannot part,
Where the little tree once stood.
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.