It’s a very blustery day here in Baltimore, which reminds me of a poem I wrote a few years ago:
Wind Pruning
Winter winds jostle the trees.
High limbs mingle and tangle
In a wild dance.
The last few brown leaves
Are torn from their hold.
Dead branches clack and
Crack against the live,
And break and fall.
Thick and deep, the hidden roots
Hug the earth more tightly.
Move me, O Holy Spirit Wind.
Shake me, make me know
Your Presence. Break off
My dead parts and whirl them away.
Then, like a tree swaying
In the winter winds, I will
Raise my arms and wave in praise,
Yet hold my ground,
Rooted, pruned, clean.
