Prune

I open but quickly shut my eyes

Not because the bright light blinds me

But because it exposes, leaves in plain sight

The gross, the grit, the grime, that I had not seen

In the dimness, the dullness of ignorance

Arrogance grew wild up the walls of my heart

Pride's roots ran deep and ever so blatant

Self righteousness bloomed, beautiful in the dark.

But when at long last, the bright Son rises

And His blinding light that gives men life

Reveals the weeds suffocating another heart He prizes,

He stoops down to prune with the double edged knife.

Slowly but surely and painfully, He shapes

A hedge here, a vine there, makes room to breathe

But this heart accustomed to the thickets, it fails

To catch a glimpse of the forest for the trees.

As each day, each stray branch is snipped

I cry. Fears and doubts and questions pile

Still the Spirit reminds, press on- onward, upward,

Branches reaching out, but eyes fixed to the sky.

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