Thou Art the Vine

Thou are the vine, sweet Lord,
I but a branch, hanging there.
Help me to abide in Thee, Lord.
Go, daily, to Thee in prayer.

I know that , without Thee
Being my Root, I could not abide.
I would see that the fruit, in me,
Had swiveled up and, surely, died.

Help me to use fertilizer, Lord,
Reading Thy wondrous words of life;
Knowing, in Thy love and forgiveness
There would never be strife.

I know I need plentiful water,
Like the spring of a bubbling brook;
Healthy and pleasing to Thee,
Master, when upon my you look.

Let my fruit be plentiful and hardy, too,
And may I ponder Thy word
That my life would be more fruitful;
My good fruit more preferred.

Let me be your grapes that
Make the sweetest wine of all;
For in the harvest time, when
On me Thou doth come to call.

Oh, the sweet wonder of hanging on
Thy vine, for sweet fruit to bear;
To know I am cleansed, through
Your sweet and Holy word, there.

Knowing, Thou art the true vine,
And God, the Father, the Husbandman;
I shall try, with all my might, Lord,
To bring Thee fruit ~ all that I can.

Purge me, try me, Lord. Have me be
A better branch, hanging there:
Upon, the true Vine of life, spreading
His love and forgiveness everywhere.

Let us look to Thee, Lord, on past
The cisterns to the river of life's stream;
That, on that day, there, in Paradise,
I will know its not, at all a dream.

Copyright by Pearlie Duncan Walker