Sprout
Bryan john applebyThey looked my in my red eyes and said she won’t last
We all knew that she should’ve slept until mid-December
When it comes to the lot I have learned, I can’t count on the cast
That night a vision came
At the same time both vivid and vague
Of a father looking on
As he burns to the ground the house that he made
When I woke, I had been slain in the spirit of reason
Baptized in the rolling dark waters of doubt
‘Cause I’m told it’s Your will to withhold, but it feels like treason
A rain cloud refusing to pour in a season of drought
That night a vision came
At the same time both vivid and vague
Of a father looking on
As he burns to the ground the house that he made
And I heard him say
It was well on its way
Just look how it swayed
How it crumbled and caved
As the crimson glow of the fire caught his eye
I could tell he could hear, as well could I
That along with the crackle and growl of the fire
Came a call quite small from inside--
I’m in here alive
But now, a child is born, she is bent but not broken
A spark, a seed and a sprout
A miracle or catastrophe
This child who’s orphaned her family