January Trees

When sin is all there ever seems to be,

A dirty blood polluting all my deeds,

I'm comforted by what You want from me—

To fling myself on You in all my needs.


Though I feel like I don't know what to do,

Uncertain and alone, I know one thing—

A Surety still stands, a Savior, You.

With each note of my sin, still Mercy sings.


I know I'll dance my whole life to this sound.

As bright'ning January tree limbs yawn,

Like peach trees, pink-limbed, reach from snowy ground,

My heart here beats and flushes for that dawn—


The everlasting glories of Your grace

And the blood-stained beauteous sunrise of Your face.

Devon Kelly