Unless ye abide
By John Clare
My greatest desire above all
To abide as one upon the vine
Bringing forth fruit in time
Then resting come the fall.
No need to depend upon me
But simply let the vine
Flow the sap into mine
All from Him, simply freely.
And after the harvest ends
The Master wields his knife
To end my dead life
So new growth can begin
In the vineyard across the road
The shoots are never pruned
They multiply until all too soon
The vine breaks under the load
The fruit spoils upon the ground
No wine at the wedding flows
They bundle up the dead boughs
Up to the heavens flames abound
Meant to grow in the light
The vines made a grand shade
The husbandman abandoning the blade
Stealing off under cover of night
But in the vineyard of the King
The clusters grew in the sun
Upon new vines upon the one
As to the bride the finest wine did come.
My dad and I for years grew muscadine grapes. I dearly miss them and the lessons learned from them.
No comments:
Post a Comment