A child is a garden,
Restless to grow
Set apart for beauty
Seeds of purpose and hope hiding deep,
His Heart for this garden, He whispers to two
Parents, He calls them by name
To bring forth, in His strength,
A place full of grace,
where the dark gives way to blooms.
So, rocks, stones and roots,
Grasped tightly, plucked out
Thick, choking vines,
finally yield;
Love pulls hard.
Hugs, smiles, hands heal
Soaks through to a thirsty soul.
The Light shines radiant, warm, and pure
From hands that tend the soil.
Tough seeds soften, bursting, bold
Tender life pushes and stirs.
Fragile green shoots,
Always threaten to break
He lends strength to the ones who bend, work and wait
For beauty to rise up from ashes,
For life called by Him
To bloom.
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