what a difference a year makes—
where zinnias used to grow
with promise,
mangled weeds pool out
instead,
where chamomile daisies once burst
like a meadow, I just see
dry, dead things.
but also this June’s peach
harvest tripled from the last
and I scooped vanilla icecream over strawberries and fresh
peach slices.
what a difference, what a difference…
pain bleeding, joy dripping
from my hands,
lifting my trembling, unflinching
voice, my soul pressed into
my Lord’s faithfulness,
“I don’t know hold this…!”
my heart getting everywhere,
pouring out to my Lord,
hemmed into
His warm stronghold—that’s how.
-S.V.F., Heartsong
Sierra V. Fedorko 
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