On Holy Ground

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

And thus in life: we would not careless treadWith clumsy feet upon earth's seedling bedTended of God. Our vision may not seeThe questing thoughts of grace, which prayerfully'Neath earthly sod now seek their upward wayTowards Life and Light—but we would never sayA word, nor have a thought to blight—nor showThem aught but loving care; for well we know That they are there!

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