On August 9, 1967 at 816 East 18th St. in Odessa, Texas, I was sitting at the kitchen table of the parsonage with a heavy-laden heart, for some antagonistic members were attempting to subvert our pastoral ministry. As I looked out the window, I saw some pansies blooming under three sapling live oaks – all of which I had planted that spring in that arid soil. It was my first ever attempt at composing “poetry” of sorts:
Lo, a pansy blooms in August
Amidst the broiling sun.
I look from my kitchen window
And count the fragile blossoms
One by one.
“We’ve been well watered
The whole summer through!” …
I hear them chant.
“The tender branches
Of three young oaks
Have given us shameless shade
Against August’s noon-day sun,”
Exalt the pansies.
“But why, you purple-faced gnomes,
Have you not withered
As did your brothers?
For it is August
And the broiling sun
Should have driven you
The way of all flesh …
Long ago!”
The Spring is gone,
The summer’s hot.
And lo, a pansy blooms in August!
The fragile faces
Smile up at me and cry:
“Thanks for the water!”
And I reply:
“Only God can make you grow
And only He can sustain you.”
Lo, a pansy blooms in August …
How much more shall God not grant
Me His forgiveness
Won by His Son
Who withered in the broiling
Sun long ago
So that I might live,
Miraculously, freely!
Lo, a pansy blooms in August.
So, God, sustain me too,
And guide me!
Copyright by Rev. Dr. Elmer M. Hohle