HOPE RISING

Lo, a tree it's end not come when cut down
Returneth to life, a possibility and bud 
Though it's roots grow old
It's stump be not in the ground 
At the scent of water sprouteth like a young plant
​
What is water to a tree?

If not for life. For out of pleasure and delight floweth a river to water the garden.

What is water to a tree?

If not to enable growth. 
In the fine path away from that which profiteth not, flourisheth one beside life-giving streams. 
‘Tis like a well-watered garden bearing fruit at the right time whose leaves wither not.

Hope rising where water is nigh

Come, the invitation reads
Drink to your heart’s content
No limits on drawing
That hope mayest arise