I was up on a hill, tethering at twilight
The sweet-smelling grass that was neatly raked in rows.
The tractor’s tether tips were messing with all their might,
When suddenly a winsome wonder came into sight:
Under the grass, dandelions were below,
And the tether threw like feathers the dandelion snow—
Fluffy puffs, falling up—yes! Up they go,
Reflecting the sun’s shining fire-gold light.
Doesn’t God the Father also drive the tether tractor occasionally?
For up on a hill, as a small seed planted deep in the ground,
We grow and grow like a weed, below an orderly canopy.
But then a tether-trial, like a thorn, comes suddenly
And pierces our lifeline, throws our peace of mind, till nothing is sound!
Our fists we shake at him who makes, yet we knew not to the earth we were bound.
Now through suffering, the path to heaven we have found!
Pure as snow, up we go! Yes, we are falling up, you see!
Reflecting the golden majesty of the Son almighty!