God Said, “I’m Mowing You”

The weeds, yes my child they are there,
But they cannot destroy you
Your garden shall blossom and grow into perfection

But I need to send a lawn mower over your heart
I’m tilling the land- I’m not mad at you - I’m
Perfecting you— protecting you
Though the scarecrows & snakes try to overtake you
I got you- you are in my hands- and nobody can pluck you
From me, ever
I know it’s hard- but winter won’t lost forever
The gardens of spring will bloom
And your fruit will heal nations
I’m mowing you
To perfect you