My field is thick with thorns. My field is arid and parched. In the morning I seek dew and see not a drop among my leafs. The sun rises and withers my vines. Not a bud has emerged, not a berry has been born. With sorrow I sit among my flowers that give no aroma.
As my tears fall upon the infertile soil, I see a sprout began to come forth. Over my sunken shoulder I see a shadow. Long and enveloping His cast takes over my whole garden. “Oh great and wise, what must I do to tend to my field? What must I do to produce a bountiful crop?”
The Figure said nothing but gave a smile and sat down beside me. His ample hands began to churn the ground. I was afraid of Him at first, but the smoothness of His humming comforted me as he commenced his work.
Before I knew it, my hands were with His hands. The two of us dig at the harden earth in unison. He still spoke not, only the smile and humming of a song persisted.
As I raised my hands from the dirt, I saw they were clean. There was no stains, no grind under my finger nails. The Figures hands were also pristine. Where the spout had formed from my fallen tear had begun to grow and flourish.
The Figure stood up and gaze upwards and gave thanks. “This soil is now good for growth. The harvest shall be abundant” He look down at me placed His hand on my brow. The smile was still wide and directed at me. He began to walk away still humming that song of old. As I watch Him return to where he came from, I began to feel the rain pour down.
As my tears fall upon the infertile soil, I see a sprout began to come forth. Over my sunken shoulder I see a shadow. Long and enveloping His cast takes over my whole garden. “Oh great and wise, what must I do to tend to my field? What must I do to produce a bountiful crop?”
The Figure said nothing but gave a smile and sat down beside me. His ample hands began to churn the ground. I was afraid of Him at first, but the smoothness of His humming comforted me as he commenced his work.
Before I knew it, my hands were with His hands. The two of us dig at the harden earth in unison. He still spoke not, only the smile and humming of a song persisted.
As I raised my hands from the dirt, I saw they were clean. There was no stains, no grind under my finger nails. The Figures hands were also pristine. Where the spout had formed from my fallen tear had begun to grow and flourish.
The Figure stood up and gaze upwards and gave thanks. “This soil is now good for growth. The harvest shall be abundant” He look down at me placed His hand on my brow. The smile was still wide and directed at me. He began to walk away still humming that song of old. As I watch Him return to where he came from, I began to feel the rain pour down.
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