An Ugly Old Stump (An Advent Poem)
Just an ugly old stump -- that's all it was -- and old stumps carry no hopes or dreams. Only maps and memory rings of thirsty days, hard toil, and weary longings embedded to the core. Just an ugly old stump -- a dwarfed reminder -- of what once was. . . and all that might have been. If only. If only. But old stumps carry no hopes or dreams -- Only scarred rememberings. . . of lightening strikes and howling wind, of squirrels and hammer heads, of children's summer play, All these now faded away To just an ugly old stump -- useless for humans, but to to sit to rest to think And hurried humans hardly take the time to do such things. Just an ugly old stump -- that's all it was -- and old stumps carry no hopes or dreams. Or do they? Look again. Could it be? A tiny sprout of green? What could this possibly mean? "A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse" Isa. 11:1 "Hope springs eternal in the human breast. . ." Alexander Pope "The thrill of hope, ...