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.