Pruning

Quickly cut my branches, Lord,
the dead stuff weighs me down.
Chop my lifeless limbs away
and leave them to the ground.

I know the pain might linger
for longer than a day,
the hope of new beginnings  
grows faith in a fresh way.

Let all the living water  
rush up and down my veins.
Bring beauty to my edges.
Bright blooms from what remains.

When you’re finished trimming, Lord,
don’t leave me all alone.
Wait and watch my buds become
a bouquet for your Throne.

By

JL McCarthy

April 15, 2020