Will Come a Rose

Healing water did spring
     below the mercy seat,
Flowing East to its gate
     South of the altar there,
And then out at long last
     the right front side,
Where doubting fingers once
     sought to stem the tide.

Everything lives
     where this river goes.

This living river of rivers
     ankle-deep at first,
Then up above the knees,
     just past the waist,
Then up to the neck
     and over the head;
No way to wade without
     mercy for the ride.

The desert did so rejoice,
     For Jesus was the rose.
 

Ezekiel 47:1-12
Isaiah 35:1-7

See this poem @ His Newsman