Monday, March 29, 2010
Promise (Mag 7)
quiescent unborn-soul buried lying, dying in the filth and muck of His plan
bleak night, winter’s bitter cold, deluge of life
tiny-nothing seed forced to grow roots, twisting, clawing, taking hold
fearless fight, hope’s untainted warmth, dawn before birth
tender seedling-soul bursts forth, writhing, grasping , gasping Him in
glorious light, miracle’s brilliant glow, incarnation of promise
I took this photo at the Sherwood Forest Faire last weekend. In the middle of a trampled path grew this one lovely flower, as if defying the universe. I loved the juxtaposition of dead-gray dirt and the vibrancy of the flower. When I saw the shot on my computer, I kept hearing the refrain, "Bloom where you are. Bloom where you are. Bloom where you are." Sometimes, to bloom where you are is to be reborn unto yourself.
This story was written for the prompt at Magpie Tales.