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Discussing The Graveyard School

MY ROOT

By Frederick Fuller




Early one spring I saw a tree,
A most beautiful maple tree with fresh, green leaves,
Smelling sweet and musky like the white shoulders
Of a new maiden.
I plucked a leaf and put it in my heart and kept it there
For seventeen years,
Although I forgot about it for most of that time;
Took my leaf for granted, and when I looked at it, finally,


It had withered, dried and crumbled.
Astonished, distraught, sad, terrified, I threw my leaf away,
And walked back into the forest, which I knew once,
But did no more, so changed and strange to me.
My fear seized my soul; I knew I would parish there alone.
Madly I searched for my tree, for another leaf, but she was gone.
Weeping, I wandered the dense wood, not believing I could find
Another tree.
But, then I stumbled on a root and fell into sweet, wet grass.
I pushed my face deep into the grass, so cool and fragrant,
And felt the root tug at my foot.
I looked up and saw an oak spreading over me, and I saw God.
No leaf would I take from this tree, no branch that could break and fall;
I would take the root. I would love that root and never lose sight
Of it,
Or neglect it like my leaf
As I held my root, loved her and was joyful in her, I became
A tree,
A sapling first, and from my darling root I gained strength,
And I became a fine tree. No oak, not even maple, but sturdy,
Confident and able to stand rigors of time and weather;
And my root stayed with me and gave me life.

My root died last week, fought hard to stay, but her sweet body
Failed.
I am bereft; what will I do without my root, my steadfast hold on
Earth;
My raison d'etre; my avatar of God?
But, I know now, if I look carefully at where you stood,
I will see the Love of God because you, my root, my anchor,
Was all I could see, and I was fulfilled, but now, now,
My Love, my Darling, I must see God where you were,
Because now you are with God, and I must see the way
So, someday, I can find you. Te Adoro, my Sweet.


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Discussing The Graveyard School

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    MY ROOT

    By Frederick Fuller




    Early one spring I saw a tree,
    A most beautiful maple tree with fresh, green leaves,
    Smelling sweet

    read more

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