“Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it”
Now I’m grown up and old I can see the effects of my “training.” Ingrown here, stunted there, twisted and crooked aslant. The cells in their leaning away. Living and dead all over. No chance of undoing. I don’t doubt that the core of me is reaching, but axes and ropes have wounded my way. I did my damnedest. Filling up leaves, sending out seeds, but the root was in the sap. Perhaps I’ll be useful for burning.
N Filbert 2013