On Holy Ground

Tread not with ruthless foot upon the tender
Growing things: so small they are and slender,
So hardly seen they must be sought among
The stronger herbs—these tiny things so young!
Look here again, where gnarled and knotted roots
Become quite green with probing, fragile shoots!
And some, being late, have not begun to show
Their growth, which may seem hesitant and slow—But it is there!

And thus in life: we would not careless tread
With clumsy feet upon earth's seedling bed
Tended of God. Our vision may not see
The questing thoughts of grace, which prayerfully
'Neath earthly sod now seek their upward way
Towards Life and Light—but we would never say
A word, nor have a thought to blight—nor show
Them aught but loving care; for well we know That they are there!

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