Poetry

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The gardener tends his plot,
Plants the seeds in tidy rows,
Nurtures them with daily care,
Ever watchful as they grow.
First appears a frail green shoot
As it searches for the light.
Then the others sprout up too,
To the gardeners delight.

All the elements combine
To assist the little shoots.
The buds in time become plants,
Then the plants bring forth their fruits.
The garden grows till harvest time,
Then the gardener will reap;
The earth brings forth her bounty,
Even as all men may sleep.

Seed is like the Word of God
Planted in the heart of men.
Sometimes we are the planters,
Sometimes we watch and tend.
It's God who gives the increase
While we labour in His plot;
He alone makes life to grow:
He will harvest all His crop

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