The Sap Will Rise

Tree in Angkor Wat

 The Sap Will Rise.
© Malcolm J Duncan

When the icy hand of winter

wraps its fingers round your throat

And you feel like you cannot breathe –

the Sap will rise.

When all you see is deadness

When the Spirit’s wind is biting

When the soil of your heart is ice-hard

When growth is a distant memory.

The Sap will rise.

When your words lie like dead leaves,

When your surroundings feel barren,

When the moments in your life feel dark,

When the Son shines through

The clouds of despair and doubt,

The Sap will rise.

When your reading is dry,

When your prayers are hollow,

When your praise is powerless,

When your passion has gone,

The Sap will rise.

Spring will come again.

Roots will drink from Life once more.

Hope will push through the dark soil of despair.

Green, bright, small and vulnerable

Perhaps.

But He is here.

The Sap will rise.