Our roots drink from a soil of renewed casting;
Drunk (in a past),
Yet soon to be fulfilled (everlasting).
Our trunks are girded with layered shields –
Armored, that we may weather this ground
(As beacons among fields).
Our branches are gifted as arms –
Reaching up and out;
Stemmed, intricate connections overcome all drying doubts.
Our leaves provide an enveloping canopy
(Where rain kisses these lips).
Veins flow in unison –
Accepting and open to all quenching tips.
This body prepares us for answers –
Of what will be sent;
Wholly planted, we shall share in reasons –
Of what the stages meant.
The Sun leads us through seasons –
Of sustenance, growth, thirst.
Light, that we may seed, shines evenly –
So the last may become first.
A cycle gives us chances to discover
An abundance of everything in need;
Eventual to a pattern –
Within time is a setting –
Where those called shall be freed.
Daniel 12: 2
And many of them that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt.
All Sides (One Goal)
The Crest of Hope
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