Flowers we stand so spectacular
with wonderful colors turning.
Seeing seasons of ripened fruit
or as honey clusters
yielding breath for others.

Unseen growth in the earth
like unto feeling bee stings.
Smothering, they drain all,
drinking dry where once . . .
life seemed to satisfy.

Weeds in my garden
need pulling in unstable soil.
Planted in circumstance,
I only cry out unable
to the one who sends rain.

Please, send me hands.
Heal all my wounds.
Somehow I know
thy mercy transforms
in the timing of Your plan.