You withered the fruitless tree
“Discordia!” The vinedresser sings
An untimely harvest, sweet patience my plea
–
My soil-bed unkempt, you can see
Roots buried deep in loose soil I cling
You the withered the fruitless tree
–
With death in this moment from sin I am free
Yet this drying, pulling, uprooting does sting
An untimely harvest, sweet patience my plea
–
Command me now and I’ll fall to my knee
Chrysanthemums, poetic lexicon, what can I bring?
You withered the fruitless tree
–
I hear there is still a crown by the lee
Worn by a lamb and shepherd, a servant and king
An untimely harvest, sweet patience my plea
–
Shadows lengthen, diffused light covers me
Respirations deepen in this my awakening
You withered the fruitless tree
An untimely harvest, sweet patience my plea
uiramu 