by Mike Hollow
Deep in the soil
Of the forest of ages
Unseen,
The future is stirring,
And seed that has lain
As if dead
Is now split
By the power of creation
Of all that has been.
A tender shoot pushes where once,
From a root in dry ground,
A noble tree, in whose shadow
The earth with a myriad
Sun-dappled saplings
Was crowned.
Their glory is gone,
But their life,
Though in dust and in darkness interred,
Still abides,
As its vigor, transferred
By God's wonder
Explodes the green shoot into view:
Earth's first glimpse of the new,
In whose consummate splendor
The glory of old is outshone.
And this, says the Lord,
Is my tree.
See it starting to grow.
The peoples shall furnish its boughs
And the nations its leaves-
And all history's wisdom
Could only its shadow perceive.
And you?
Insignificant grain,
Cowed by the future,
Awed by the past?
Think again.
You, as you lie where the feet of the ages have trod,
You are the seed
Of the tree
Of the Kingdom of God.
Deep in the soil
Of the forest of ages
Unseen,
The future is stirring,
And seed that has lain
As if dead
Is now split
By the power of creation
Of all that has been.
A tender shoot pushes where once,
From a root in dry ground,
A noble tree, in whose shadow
The earth with a myriad
Sun-dappled saplings
Was crowned.
Their glory is gone,
But their life,
Though in dust and in darkness interred,
Still abides,
As its vigor, transferred
By God's wonder
Explodes the green shoot into view:
Earth's first glimpse of the new,
In whose consummate splendor
The glory of old is outshone.
And this, says the Lord,
Is my tree.
See it starting to grow.
The peoples shall furnish its boughs
And the nations its leaves-
And all history's wisdom
Could only its shadow perceive.
And you?
Insignificant grain,
Cowed by the future,
Awed by the past?
Think again.
You, as you lie where the feet of the ages have trod,
You are the seed
Of the tree
Of the Kingdom of God.
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