Subtly

In us

Works

The Spirit's grace.

Not grasping,

Straining,

Or abusing,

Nor

Should we

Find that confusing:

He

Who made us

Knows

Our nature's pace.

On a

Seedbed

Rich in willingness,

Worms of woe

Can

Break our crust;

With

Humbled,

Crumbled,

Fertile trust,

We may allow

Him

Into our mess.

The rain of pain

And

Affliction's squall,

Can moisten

And pierce

Our shell;

To burst forth

In

Germination's swell,

New life

Sprouting

Where death was all.

Performing

Hagiosynthesis,

The Advocate

Works with

A creator's care;

Core-deep,

In our

Soul's dark lair,

A delicate

And seamless

Osmosis.

Sweet

Sacramental sap,

Surging,

Coursing

Through our

Christ-joined stem,

Enables us

To bloom

And grow like Him:

Ideal nourishment

For witnessing.

Thus

The Holy Spirit's

Profound caress:

Laden with

The Kingdom's

Fruits,

How He longs

To bring on

Shoots:

Faith-tall,

Hope-lush,

Ripe with loving kindness.

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