The Sower

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These blades,

Guillotine to slice flesh

From bone, shred all semblance of comfort.

This rack,

Gears ground like teeth on edge,

Stretch faith beyond breaking.

 

Suffering gouges, disembowels,

Carves furrows upon her aching heart,

Divides the sheep and the goats

Into messy eviscerated piles.

 

The Sower scatters – dignified, purposeful.

Seeds cling with new tenacity

To scars, places where faith

That bleeds replaces stone.

They fall into gaping wounds,

Freshly ploughed soil

Where germination reigns.

 

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You

You provide soil so my roots can dig deep,

You are the raindrop that quenches and seeps;

Yours is the sunlight that draws out my bloom,

Your gift of oxygen gives my lungs room.

Yours is the breeze that cools in the heat,

You sing the music that makes my heart beat.;

Your love has planted me, right from the start –

What else can I do,

But give you my heart?