There is a spaciousness
springing up from the garden
that is the wellspring of my soul
The once tight bud
Of the newly formed rose,
Is now softening and unfurling
Its dewy fragrant petals-
A covenant renewal of life restored
There was a time
When all I could see
was thorns and barren canes
amidst of a garden despondent with weeds
It seemed an endless winter was upon the earth
And the sun locked away in some celestial closet
To which God had lost the key
How would I survive its hiatus from the sky?
So little faith had I
When dark clouds billowed and blocked the sun
Was it any less present
For my inability to see?
Sometimes peering in a mirror darkly
Is the straining our eyes need to see
Sometimes pruning comes disguised as death
until, almost imperceptibly, a ray of light escapes
and startles us in the shadow lands
It seems The Sun(Son) is never really lost at all
But merely hidden at times from view;
The thorns and barren canes proclaim not death
but herald an awakening breath
Just as ceaseless winter yields sovereignty to gentle spring
So too the rose to the Gardner’s pruning tool.
While all of heaven stands in awe of grace renewed
bringing life, peace, and hope to my soul.