Tree in Angkor Wat
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.