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A Poetic Reflection



O blessed fruit, gift of the Creator,
resplendent image of the Unseen God.
O tenacious and trusting one
in the cupped hands of your Maker.
The pulsating beat and rhythm of the seasons
have nourished and ripened you.
No searing wind nor piercing hail deforms your flesh.
Not for you to wither and die,
 plucked off in your immaturity by grasping and insensitive fingers
Protective leaves have ever encompassed and uplifted you.

Now is your moment of truth.
Struggle and yearning give way to joy and reckless abandon:
You have touched God.

Messages to: Paula McAdam rsm