Bloody Thorns

Piercing thorns drenched in blood,
Strangling my struggling heart.
Angry roots are shoved deep into
The black manure of my sin.
Roses grow, withered and worn,
Displaying the false hope of my pride.

The Gardener scoops his hands into the dirt,
Digging out the roots that cling.
He rips them out
And tills the new soil,
Preparing me for the seed.
Love sows the seed,
Thrown by the hands of the Bride.

Yet the thorns remain,
Tightening their hold as the
Roots are clipped from the stems.
The Gardener tightly grasps those
Sharp cutting thorns that encircle my heart.
His blood flows onto the soil,
Cleansing and enriching it anew.

His blood mingles with mine
As he rips the bloody crown of thorns apart.
He leaves the wounds as reminders,
But the way for healing is left clear,
As our blood-pact is sealed once more.

This simple poem is just a description of the breaking process of returning to God after a period of separation from Him. Although the process may be hard and hurt, eventually the heart can heal and be renewed in Him again. Reliance upon the church and the body of believers for this process is a must, as they can provide the guidance needed to see the way to a more meaningful Christainity.