Poem: The Quiet Root

Beneath the oak, where shadows lie,
Not every leaf will seek the sky.
Some bow low, in silent grace,
Content to hold a modest place.

The river speaks, but not too loud,
It shapes the stone without a crowd.
It does not boast of where it’s been,
Yet carves deep truths beneath the skin.

The candle lights a stranger’s night,
Then fades away without a fight.
Its worth is not in shining bright,
But in the gift of giving light.

True strength is clothed in gentle thread,
It walks behind where pride has led.
It listens more than it declares,
And carries burdens others bear.

So let me walk the lower way,
Where ego’s voice begins to stray.
For greatness lies not in the roar,
But in the soul that asks no more.

Thank-you for reading.

Remember there are many paths back to God.

Follow your own path,

Brenda Marie