Fruitfulness by D.E. Young


Like this old apple tree,
twisted and marred,
so is my spirit, Lord,
battered and scarred.
Still though it lift each branch
heav’nward this day,
not one of them doth go
straight on its way.
How doth my spirit twist
backwards from Thee!
Yet still my heart doth yearn
Thy face to see.
O grant the Springtime, Lord,
refreshing shower,
that I may persevere,
strengthened with power,
lest at the Harvest-time
Thy heart should grieve
if thou should’st find on me
nothing but leaves.

by D.E. Young


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