From beginning to end.

I'm feeling clipped and left in the pile,

only hoping to be whittled,

or used for some sort of decorative

mantle piece that will gather dust

and spiders,

but suddenly I'm lifted high,

and I can feel Your face like the sun.

The root in me is the root in You,

and all is deepened and brought water

and learns to rest, then grow,

an undulating dance of branch

against vine.

And all I ever thought I was is merely kindling

for the fire,

but all I ever am in You is everything from beginning

to end.