The Wreath Poem by Kathleen Viaes

A friend of mine, who's grapevine died, had put it out for trash.
I said to her, 'I'll take those vines and make something of that'.
As I gently bent one vine, entwining round and round,
A rustic wreath began to form, potential did abound!
One vine would not go where it should, and anxious as I was,
I forced it so to change its shape, it broke - and what the cause?
If I had taken precious time to slowly change its form,
It would have made a lovely wreath, not a dead vine, broken, torn.
As I finished bending, adding blooms, applying trim,
I realized how that rustic wreath is like my life within.
You see, so many in my life have tried to make me change,
They've forced my spirit anxiously, I tried to rearrange.
But when the pain was far too great, they broke my fragile form.
I plunged far deeper in despair, my spirit broken, torn.
Then God allowed a gentle one who knew of dying vines,
To kindly, patently allow the Lord to take His time.
And though the vine has not yet formed a decorative wreath,
I know that with God's servant's help one day when Christ I meet,
He'll see a finished circle, a perfect gift to Him,
It will be a finished product, a wreath with all the trim.
So as you look upon this gift, the vine round and complete,
Remember God is using you to gently shape His wreath.