ROOTS

Swaying to the dictates of the breeze,

Thanking the tree and its branch for holding me steady.

Who will hold me in place,

When the breeze turns to wind?

Would even the strongest branch hold me firm?

Would it matter that I am the leaf of a sturdy tree?

Or would I be expendable as many before me?

That was and has always been my position.

Expendable!

Till I met the Tree of life.

And by association, I got life.

And now instead of wishing that I was the branch,

I am a leaf of the Tree of life.

I don’t care how much this upsets your theology.

I am a leaf with roots.

Rooted firmly in the Tree of life.