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I can smell You on the wind
The damp stems are a testament to Your arrival
You are the petals of the softest flower
The yellows and pinks opening for the blush of spring
The newly sprouted fern pushing to the top
and I, like these delicates, am flexing my fingers
Stretching toward the sun
Thirsting for Your rain
Your love stretches over me like ivy on iron
Growing up and away from the soil
Cut away my growth, ready me for Spring
Bring Your rain, Your sun, Your wind
I am ready to push through toward You

*written with thoughts of Gladwell’s breakthrough post turning over in my heart

little ole me

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