UNSHELTERED
I don’t know God, but I know His tree.
No pillar of salt but might as well be.
Planted in place, it cannot flee,
but curls its toes in the loam that is home.
UNSHELTERED
I don’t know God, but I know His tree.
No pillar of salt but might as well be.
Planted in place, it cannot flee,
but curls its toes in the loam that is home.
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A very interesting poem Nan!
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I appreciate that.
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So much depth in such simple terms.
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Thanks, kind sir.
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I liked the sound of this. And the toe curling in the loam.
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Thanks, the idea of being unable to move forever and just having to take what the termites or lightning or ax or forest fire brings makes me empathic.
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The tree of life is a wonderful symbol, so rich and filled with meaning. I like this emphasis on its rootedness. (K)
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