A Christmas Reflection // Positively Speaking // Mark Wilson

Just an ugly old stump — that’s all it was — and old stumps carry no hopes or dreams.

Only maps and memory rings

of thirsty days, hard toil, and tired longings

embedded to the core.

Just an ugly old stump — a dwarfed reminder — of what once was. . . and all that might have been.

If only.

If only.

But old stumps carry no hopes or dreams —

Only scars and recollections. . .

of frightening winds and lightening strikes,

of squirrels and hammer heads,

of occasional child’s play.

All of these now faded away.

Just an ugly old stump — not much use for humans except

to sit

to rest

to think

And hurried humans hardly take the time to do such things.

Just an ugly old stump — that’s all it was — and old stumps carry no hopes or dreams.

Or do they?

Look again. Could it be? A tiny sprout of green?

What could this possibly mean?

“A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse”  Isa. 11:1

“Hope springs eternal in the human breast. . .”  Alexander Pope

“The thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!”

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