A garden I planted one day,
full of flowers in colors arrayed.
But, as the hours went by
I wondered when these
would rise?
Impatient, I dug them up
and said,
"why have you not grown?"
Then, I planted again
patience was not in my hand.
The hours went by and
I began to sigh
when these would rise.
Impatient, I dug them up
and said, "when, when, when
do your begin?"
But, what I failed to see
in the deep darkness
of the earth, God's quiet working
would soon give birth.
And I held my hands
folding them in His plan.
His timing not mine,
His will, not mine.
Allison Ashton©
Nov 12, 2011
Nov 12, 2011 at 11:00 PM UTC
A garden I planted one day,
full of flowers in colors arrayed.
But, as the hours went by
I wondered when these
would rise?
Impatient, I dug them up
and said,
"why have you not grown?"
Then, I planted again
patience was not in my hand.
The hours went by and
I began to sigh
when these would rise.
Impatient, I dug them up
and said, "when, when, when
do your begin?"
But, what I failed to see
in the deep darkness
of the earth, God's quiet working
would soon give birth.
And I held my hands
folding them in His plan.
His timing not mine,
His will, not mine.
Allison Ashton©
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