How Can I Not?

how could anything other than love pour out of this heart of mine where the gnarled roots of sin have intertwined themselves with my soul and spirit and by the time their slow growth is felt by my consciousness it’s too late for me to begin chopping the snarled branches or slicing the wooden ropes for if I truly succeeded in cutting through a limb the roots would circle themselves about my wearied neck and there hang like moss from a tree until my breath was stopped and my life drained away leaving me powerless for this is the nature of sin that it weaves itself into a trap and as soon as the realization dawns and desperation sets in the harried hacking only serves to demonstrate how utterly lost we are on our own unable to escape from the heavy mass of twistedness that meets us with an onslaught of lies that we are nothing, no one, worthless hope sinks from sight beneath attacks and all seems lost until suddenly there beams a light of whitest brightness that bears down on the cage of branches and sets it aflame so that it burns down to the ash and dust and dirt that it came from and I am left lying on soft fresh grass that peeps up from the ashes shyly as if its presence doesn’t quite know whether it’s welcome or whether it will be permitted to stay but I answer all its fears with a single tear that slides down my cheek until it gently presses itself into the ground to nourish the grass and my eyes are filled with wonder that anyone would plant such fragile seedlings near a person as broken and ugly and stained and weak as me but that fact is the very reason that love drenches the air as the scent pours forth from my blooming heart