The Beautiful Bleeding

Intimacy Requires Loss: John 15 and Poetry

The Vine and the Branches

John 15 “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. ² He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. ³ You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. ⁴ Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.

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I sat atop my prideful horse,
With borrowed strength to stay the course.
Yet, when the sudden weakness struck,
I saw my soul was choked with muck.

To my own soul’s deep-seated shame,
I found myself alone to blame.
With wild branches left untended,
Stalling the fruit that He intended.

I feared the blade, I feared the loss,
Of leaves I grew at such a cost.
I called my tangled mess a crown,
Until His mercy took it down.

He pulled me close to feel the vine,
And pressed His nail-scarred palm to mine.
The Gardener’s steel is cold and bright,
Yet guided by a Father’s light.

Held within His steady hands,
Came grace to heal my wasted lands.
He cut, He sawed, He sharply sheared,
Until the wounding ache was cleared.

The bleeding sap begins to flow,
From jagged edges, soft and low.
A sacred tear upon the wood,
The loss of dead for the sake of good.

The tender process never ends,
As life with Him in beauty blends.
To be in the vine, lush and fruitful,
I yield the wild, the dead, the awful.

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Thanks for reading.

—Samuel

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