| Give it Away |
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The cold hard seed, Just like a bead, Lay shining in my hand. I opened up the brown warm earth And slipped that seed down deep. I gently closed the little hole And covered it with sand. The sun beat down, Upon the mound, And water drizzled in. Days passed by, that little seed Lay quiet, in suspense; Waiting for his special moment, For life to burst within. His skin was stretched. His heart was wrenched. Power burst him wide apart. Tiny tentacles of life went down. The little shoot went up, Up to find the sun. Broken, was that little heart. The seed lay dead, His spirit spent. The old self was no more. It offered up the life it held, To multiply And bear much fruit. It sacrificed it's all. I am alive, But need to dive, Into demise. My life I have to give away, To be renewed, To reproduce. For, from that death, I rise ... Not for my fame, Or to be lame, But to have a whole new worth ... To glorify the Father, To give back What He gave. For, Jesus did the very same. |
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