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He is like a tree planted by streams of water, that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers.
Psalm 1: 3
Tree by a Stream
The roots of my tree dig deep into the soft earth.
Their work is done in darkness and in silence.
Their pace is urgent yet steady. There is no haste, no rush. There is trust.
They search, they stretch, they reach, they find.
For I planted my tree by a stream.
Cool water flows from a source unseen.
From many miles away it comes, tumbling down, in haste,
in a rush. In trust.
The stream is pregnant with hope and promise.
The flow paints the land green.
There would be no tree without stream.
Plump and ripe fruit falls to the lush grass.
My tree gives generously of its bounty.
From root, to trunk, to branches, and leaves, to flowers,
to fruit, to seed.
The tree is sustained by the stream, and the stream?
And the wind, and the rain, and the sun? The soft earth?
The source unseen?
For there is another stream.
Tree and stream, root and fruit, and field, all fed,
all held by a source known.
Living waters from an everlasting well.
O, my lovely roots, working hard, in darkness, and silence.
Dig deep, dig steady, search, stretch, reach, find,
drink from the stream.
Fill yourselves up with the water that quenches all thrist, heals all wounds, restores all souls, sustains all life.
Tree by a stream, there is no need to fret, to pull, to push,
to rush. Just trust.
Are we being refreshed and nourished by the Word, and the Sacraments? Are we standing close to Jesus, our stream of living water? Are we digging deep into the foundations of our faith? Are we growing with the seasons?
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