Saturday, June 23, 2012

You never know
when you toil
What will come
Of the sifted soil
You pull the weeds
and discard that which is not producing life
You plant new seeds
And wonder if you'll ever see the fruits of your strife
Then one day when you're not paying attention
Beauty blooms and it's exquisite perfection
The wonder that follows, such a simple grace
The love of God shining on your face

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