The Growing Season

I want to see your fruits in me

On every branch of this growing tree.

I want your fruits, ripe and fresh,

To be ready to harvest in any test.

 

I want to grow in you alone,

To live in your garden, tilled and sown.

I want your soil to be my base

And feed my roots as they stretch to taste.

I want to bask in your beautiful rays

As you look down on bright, sunny days.

I want your rain to fall down on me.

Your living waters flow mighty and free!

 

I want you to search me, to blow through my leaves

Knocking off any bad fruits that you see.

Prune me and shape me ‘till my very last day.

Tend me, Protector, so I grow in your ways.

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