CLICK HERE FOR THOUSANDS OF FREE BLOGGER TEMPLATES »

Sunday, 22 April 2007

Rooted









Rooted, I am rooted in what passes all understanding,
I am rooted in what cannot be shaken.
When the jackals claw at my feet,
When the vultures are greedy for my soul,
I know that I am rooted.
I will not break, I will not fall,
I will not change to suit.
I am rooted in the one thing that will never change
and He is rooted in me.



4 comments:

Janie Hickok Siess, Esq. said...

Beautiful. Stunning. Eloquent. I can't rave enough about it. I love it.

My Sunday Scribblings are posted, too. Stop by!

Sian said...

What I like best about this poem is its shape - anvil shaped. This is relevant because traditionally an anvil's base was made from a tree root - the strongest part of a tree, strong enough to take the stress of the smith's pounding. I love hidden depths like that.

Regina Clare Jane said...

This was a very moving poem- it will stay with me today...

Pilgrim said...

How poignant in it's simplicity. Kudos.