Tears (of living water) 4-26-09

I pray across this blessed land -
and sit here now, with pen in hand.
Truth is not just for the birds,
so seek ye truth among these words...

There was a tree along my drive
appearing very much alive.
Others lived there all around -
but this one grew on shallow ground.

That tree had basked out in the sun,
and from the birds it didn't run.
Yet its roots did not reach down
and soon its leaves were turning brown.

Receiving moisture, as the rest,
but didn't drink despite its quest.
It didn't draw from nature's love -
was lacking nurture from above.

Though it rained all summer long
and though I nursed it all along -
truth revealed no life ahead,
so that tree stood completely dead.

I gave it time - another year,
but it was dead and that was clear.
Though it stood there so straight and tall -
I pulled it out. Yes, roots and all.

Holding fast to 'here and now',
do I drink milk, forget the cow?
Thinking of each choice I make,
can I still pray, "my soul to take"?

Do we so love our good Creator -
or do we, His creation more?
Many still, reject His grace
as tears of sadness, soak His face.

Now this, for me, is ample proof -
His teardrops pour upon my roof.
Through the window - what a scene!
My grassy yard is turning green.

With her doll, she always cuddles,
jumping in abundant puddles.
Playing, I can see my daughter -
we're so blessed with living water.

Now here I pause, with pen and ink,
I ponder this. It makes me think,
if I reject the truth I see -
then I, just like that tree will be.

©2009 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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