Summer’s earth lets spring forth a new blade,
Just as she sustains a great tree.
Her rains made aplenty by His guiding hand,
The joy of Creation, e’er plain to see.

His fragile heartbeat entwined with her breath,
The babe in the womb is dependent on one,
As the tide seeks its path by the light of the moon,
As a young flower yearns for the sun.

What a blessing it is to be host to His love,
To feel movements drawn out by His hand,
The promise of new life within me;
A mustard seed hewn from the sand.