As though You were the sun and I a plant,
I want to grow to You through all my days,
and I feel saddened when I think I can’t
and feel cut-off from Your life giving rays.
For, as You know, at times the clouds are thick,
and it seems night lasts longer than it should,
and bulbs disguised as You have played a trick,
so I have thought that growth to them was good.
But may I grow to You as though a tree
which reaches slowly, surely to the sun
and is, despite its rootedness, most free
to grow to it though it won’t walk or run.
In life, I often don’t know where I’m going,
but may I always, toward Your love, be growing.
Mario A. Pita