Sunday, November 2, 2014

How a Weary Child Clings

My heart is like a wildflower
None more wild than me
Taking up her roots
In all attempts to be free

I never did understand
The rested looking flowers
So defined and peaceful
Without excess debris

This wildflower has been planted
In more than just different pastures
But across the lands with moats in between
A declaration spoken of by them with intrigue or envy
Grown where I have by desire... or forcibly

I know that You are faithful
And in pursuit of being pleased
Your grounds are marked Holy
Where you welcome in even the wild things
My heart is here made giddy
Like how a weary child clings

The weather has proven drastic
Even a tad extreme
But I grow in hope of a future
Planted by the sheltered streams

Plans made for our tomorrows
How else could we dare
But surrender the anxiety of aging
And accept that You are Just and Fair

Good Lord, when I shall wither
In Your appointed time
I shall become part of Your unfading garden
Fully received on the other side

So this wildflower waits...
With eager patience to see
All come restored
And listens to the strange seasons passing
From this life into so much more
.

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