sapling

 
a little seedling of hope in the garden of trust
nourished in the rich earth of truth
reaching heavenward seeking the sky's tears
weeping for the dawning of understanding

rooted in faith she breaks through the hardened soil
a tiny sprout in the wastelands where the gardener planted
destined to be a fruit tree...sustenance for the weary and worn
a resting spot for the lonely sojourners of the valley of drought

the little sprout thought nothing of herself
it was the gardener himself who gloried in his handiwork
he worked the hardened soil with love
it is his vision that would bring her to bear