Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Vines (11/21/05)
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TITLE: My All Wise Vine | Previous Challenge Entry
By Chris Miller
11/22/05 -
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ADD TO MY FAVORITES
To my Vine who gives me life
On my own, I cannot raise
Grapes that He considers rife
Even though I know this truth
I forget it now and then
Oft I hammer for some proof
And I wait, I know not when
Will the Son shine on my leaves
And the purple skins so sweet
Waiting as the mystery weaves
Through my life as doubts I meet
Even though my branch is full
Still He prunes me til I cry
Knife so sharp, He seeks to pull
Out the deadness by and by
Parting with the cherished fruit
Strips me more than I can bear
Lack of foliage cannot suit
Someone tells me, it’s not fair
When the Dresser of the Vine
Seeks to nourish further growth
Then He gathers all that’s “mine”
Sadly, I am often loath
Does He sense that I feel bare
After all His work is done
Someone asks me, does He care
After all, you’re only one
Other branches seem so proud
Waving gaily in the breeze
My own grief I seek to shroud
From the coming, chilling freeze
Slowly, gently, Warmth within
Whispers to my broken heart
Can you trust Me, My own kin
Never from Me shall you part
Watch those limbs that know Me not
Can’t you tell they bear no fruit
On the ground, they’ll sadly rot
Pride and sin is at their root
From the Vine, they’ll meet their fate
Withering in faithless piles
Burning for it’s far too late
Caught within sin’s fatal wiles
Then my groaning turns to joy
As nutrition fills my soul
With my life He will not toy
Though the sorrows seem to roll
As I once again abide
In my loving, all wise Vine
I will trust Him though He chide
I am His, and He is mine
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