Vineyard

By Obed dela Cruz

Streams of water that give a drink for this Fertile Land,
Gushed from the scars of an Unblemished Life’s given best.
Though Eden is buried under tiny grains of sand,
This New Garden, this Vineyard flourished above the rest.

Branches seem to be like arms of a fruitful season―
When lasting delight matures under the Apple Tree,
The Vine itself gives life from captivating passion
Even before tears of love shed in Gethsemane.

Away the foxes! See them run in the speed of fear!
The Shepherd, the Gardener shall always take the care
Of this Land like giving water to a thirsty deer,
For to Him ‘tis like a Bride so beautiful and fair.

Smell the spices as they fill the air with sweet fragrance
As if myrrh, frankincense, and the smell of Cedar Trees
Play the Harp of David that makes the plant start to dance,
That makes the Morning Dew of Heaven tend not to cease.

The Grapefruit ripens as the Figs and Cherries blossom,
The Olive Tree takes the covering over the Earth!
The Flowers in the field attract Butterflies to come
To bear witness as Daylight welcomes a Garden’s birth!

Vineyard, O Vineyard where Fruits are always there to grow,
Come now and bless the eyes of all those who have labored
Because their efforts stretched to meet the end of the woe
Through Blessings, the Strength given by the Divine Word.

Vineyard, O Vineyard, come and rest upon Zion’s hill
Where angels sing and gladness reserved for us to feel.

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