De-Vine

The Lord came to me last night And met me in my soul’s deep plight He came and kissed my fevered brow And took my grape vine’s little bough And lifted me back to the wired line To rest on steady Love sublime He pruned me with some silver shears And rid me of my earthly fears The twisted my soft wooden sappy shoot And crushed my dead leaves underfoot And as my simple flowers grew Deep within my heart I fully knew That loving Hand Got me to stand Got me to grow Got me to fruit His Love channeled through my little shoot