Blooms of winter dead and wilted,
The aftermath of frosty morns
They belie their former beauty
Once bright and radiant in the sun
The root below won't morn its children
Though its role no beauty holds
Ever waiting for the springtime
To show once more what it withholds
That old root will do its duty,
New life emerges once again
Brand new blooms and brilliant color
Grace its offspring once again
In the Bible lies my rootstock
Words supplied by God above
Thank You Lord Your Spirit led me
To that garden in my soul
May I cultivate Your garden
Daily feeding on Your Word
Blooms of love burst from within me
Spreading love upon the earth.
Mike Roberson
1/27/23
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