From Bud to Glory

A bud clinging to a branch,
Cleaving in hopes that one day it would bloom,
Escaping from winter's cold cruel grasp,
Becoming a flower a Godly gift.

Preembriotic bud in it's mother's womb,
Clinging to life part of a larger brood,
A dog in name only lost and alone
Rescued by my wife he will find a new home

A budding seed, my soulful son
Naming him Michael for a long lost friend
Called by all buddy, my pride and joy,
Now he has sons two buds better than one.

God sent a bud that was locked in a tomb,
With salvific mission more work to be done
A rose from the dead, He calls us all
Blood red glory to prize and adore

Jesus sends our way a comforter
Swirling wind with it budding potential
Convicted empowered to share Gods gift
Multitudes of bud to heal and forgive.