I was sitting in my car at a park and I was watching a cardinal fly from the branches of a bunch of the trees in front of me. It made me think of a poem, and here it is. I was just about to head off for my big trip in a month or so, therefore a message was on my mind, Missions. The seed of the Gospel, those who stay, those who go…the necessity of both. Enjoy.
May 25, 2004
A rush of wind
Urges the trees to move forward
The stubborn branches grasp their leaves with resolve
The roots go deep
Settled from long ago
Dare to move the great oak.
“How I long to be a bird,”
Says the lowest branch.
“To fly so freely,
To be swept away, carried by the wind.”
The cardinal lights on the branch,
Plucks some seed from its clutch.
One falls to the ground where the tall oak stands.
The rest flit off with the cardinal,
Finding a new home
And new soil.