Live The Vibrant Life
At my childhood church, an oak tree stands, With branches extended toward heaven. At a hundred years old at least I’d guess, What secrets it must hold in its resin.
If you only had a wall of stone
And some ink to make your presence known,
What message would you leave behind?
What mark would you make to outlast your time?
I’ve been thinking about trees and their rings and how this record of the life of a tree is literally written inside them. And the truth is human bodies keep a record too…the lives we live are written all over us.
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