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Roots and Branches

April 5, 2017

Laying under a tree
on a hot summer eve
with the solstice sun still hanging
in the deep, blue sky.

 

I squirm on the grass
until the roots support my head.
I imagine the tree cradling me
like a baby in her arms.

 

I look up into the blanket
of leaves wiggling above me,
sending the breeze 
to play with my hair.

 

Tiny holes in the green 
filament allow light 
to touch my face
but not burn my skin.

 

The moment is idyllic; I breathe 
in the goodness of it, inhaling
the memory to be savored
on a long, cold January night.

 

I consider the tree:
her roots, her branches.

 
I think of God who created 
her, as well as me.

 

I have entered into the
great temple. Its grandeur 
always surrounding me,

 

if I have the eyes to behold;
if I have the heart to worship.

 

 

(photo by Ed Siderewicz)

 

 

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