Like Wandering Trees

Like Wandering Trees with roots so shallow,
We walk the paths of our lives all of our days.
Not sure to stay, to move on—we wallow,
Wandering and wondering in this big maze.  
There was a man—the wise ones tell—a man of old
Whose demeanor so gentle, his roots so deep,
Who came not wandering, but pursuing, as one pursuing gold.
In this pursuit he went into the deep so steep.
Not gold, nor fame, nor other empty endevour was his longing,
But to please the One who sent Him—Who Loves him ever since.
Ever since love was, he was. Ever since purity was he was.
Ever since IS was, he is.
And he came to tell the trees to let their roots go deep into the air,
To pursue, to strife, to fight for glory;
Not to put up with the waters of the rivers,
but to drink deep from his hands, filled with water everlasting.
So I am not wandering, not stumbling across this world,
But pursue with my roots praising the One who came to save!

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