Orange unfurls from green and lies under layers of brown.
Roots are planted deep, but canopies are left bare with death as
bitter winds befriend my nose and fingers.
I pray my roots are deep enough to endure the change of season.
What if death consumes everything that sits on the surface
so everything underneath is exposed?
Dig deep, patiently wait for the sprout to emerge,
let the roots begin to sink in.
The winds may blow the leaves away and break some branches,
but resurrection comes with change too.
Hope lives in the roots.
Roots are planted deep, but canopies are left bare with death as
bitter winds befriend my nose and fingers.
I pray my roots are deep enough to endure the change of season.
What if death consumes everything that sits on the surface
so everything underneath is exposed?
Dig deep, patiently wait for the sprout to emerge,
let the roots begin to sink in.
The winds may blow the leaves away and break some branches,
but resurrection comes with change too.
Hope lives in the roots.
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