“time hope green soul God”

In the hush between the hours, Time drifts soft as rain,  
Dropping seeds of silver minutes, ever linked yet never plain.  
Hope is a fresh-cut ivy curling on my weathered wall,  
Bright and shivering and patient, whispering through all.

Green unfurls upon my spirit, verdant as the dawn,  
A woodland of beginnings where old burdens are withdrawn.  
Its leaves are prayers unspoken, yet breathed on every breeze—  
A hush of gentle comfort weaving softly through the trees.

My soul, a tender river, bends beneath God’s steady gaze,  
Reflecting sky and shadow, song and silence, joy and maze.  
He cups my trembled longing like a sapling in His palm,  
Rooting wild and fearless dreams, watering them calm.

There is promise in the turning and in every gentle seam,  
A radiance in the waiting, in the echo of the green.  
For hope and time and God entwine: a vine that will console—  
Tending gently through the seasons, heart and earth and soul.

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