The Sowing

A word has fallen from Your lips; fastened tightly upon an arrow traveling along its trajectory to the intended mark; my heart. The good soil has been broken by the till and the spade; softened for reception of the seed that you sow. The earth clings to the impartation; the preserver that gives life to the drowning. Every seed must die before it grows; held firmly within its earthen grave; protected within the rib cage; held safe in the harbor of the palpitating heart; far from the reaches of the scavenger birds that snatch away what seed has fallen upon the trodden paths and shallow soil. The source of the river knows no drought; His Spirit implacable; unmoved from the intentions and initiatives that have been scripted from time immemorial. Down stream; faces and names, lives and circumstances, histories and futures; each being graced by the outpouring of your love; a catalyst, a sowing, that outlives itself by minutes, weeks, months, years, and generations.

Perseverance and patience have produced a harvest; love proven through obedient sowing

Luke 8:15 "and the seeds that fell on the good soil represent honest, good hearted people who hear God's word, cling to it, and patiently produce (through perseverance) a huge harvest."