Wednesday morning, April 30th, 2008, and an easy morning so far
I feel like I am taking this uncouth, wild (red in tooth and claw) boy and training him in the basic requirements of living in civilized society.
I am thinking of a eulogy for a tree. This nice poem by Freada Dillon came up on a goggle.
The mulberry tree has grown crooked, seeking light
from under a canopy
of massive hardwoods and pine sentinels.
covered with leaves the size of dinner plates,
sway precariously over the roof.
All attempts to redirect its growth have failed.
sprung from berries broadcast
along with bird droppings,
flourish in better light. But I will not
see them reach full growth.
The chainsaw's grind and sputter
punctuate the air. In moments
the yard is adrift in deadfall.
With the last bite, the chain binds,
The trunk falls almost gently,
settling into a bed of its own foliage.
Rising sap puddles on the raw stump,
warm to the touch,
bitter on my tongue.
“Falling in faith and falling in love can be understood the same way. People fall in love with no evidence of how a relationship will work out and no real knowledge of who their partner is, let alone who they will be.... We never have any real information about anything important. It takes a lifetime for the ramifications to be worked out. ...
The irony is that we all—secular or religious people alike—make our biggest decisions on faith.... You would have to live a lifetime to be qualified... And since we can’t do that we trust to luck, religion, and the kindness of strangers.”
From Frank Schaeffer’s book Crazy for God.