Limberlost’s Gate

The abusers
They know not what they do
So we shy away
And they push closer
Knives in hand
Tearing at the garden You made

What do You will?
Shall I stay, shall I flee?
To stay is to fight
To flee is to acquiesce
So tell me, oh Gardener,
What do You will?

We hold the keys
But You see the seeds
Scattered by hands uncaring
Forming brutal weeds

Now the mistakes have been made
Scars of thorns lay tattoo my flesh
You paint them into roses
Each tear having a purpose

Looking back now, I see
Where beauty once was trampled
Gently You have pruned it
To be more Heavenly.

This garden is ours,
Next time I’ll be more careful
Set the Watchman at the gate
Listen to Your whispered presage
And trust that when
Mistakes are made
You’ll restore this garden to beauty again.

“My sister, my bride, you are a locked garden- a locked garden and a sealed spring.” ~Song of Songs 4:12


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