God feeds her trees

with a natural rhythm of grace

seasons of wisdom


gentle blanket the earth

and become the rich humus

which nutures the roots in the soil


It is Her way.


She does not prune the branches

cutting away at yearnings toward the light

for man’s way is but a harsh attempt

to force the fruit

and restrict the growth

to conform to our ideal

of rigid predictability

which is not in the image

(or the imag-ination) of our God.


She allows for seasons of production

and for years of dormancy

when the energy of Her Love is being stored

or recycled for the next generation.


So feed me in the way of the Nurtuting One

with nourishment to my soil

so that I can flourish into my own shape

into full, abundant foliage

with limbs that stretch

and dance upon the wind

and I will bear much fruit for you

when my season has arrived


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