He picks us up.
Dollar plants, sitting parched in garden store bins.
Wilted and lifeless, He takes us home.
Easing us out of our plastic containers,
carefully tearing us from the things that hold us back.
He breaks up our roots; awakening, stirring...
pouring leftover soil into hand me down pots.
Chipped and tarnished: in broken vessels He places this:
Summer is rough.
Oppressive heat chokes the life out of us.
Torrential downpours leave us battered and bruised.
Deadly pestilence eating away...
But we are not destroyed.
All along- He is watering and feeding,
pruning and nurturing the life He sustains.
‘til one day you look and suddenly see:
What a difference a season makes.