A green shoot grows
out of an old tree stump,
announcing to the world
that power lies within death . . .

Things in me that have died,
the worn-out and the worthless,
they are waiting to give rise
to some green shoot
of a sister.

They are inviting me
to faith in resurrection
and reverence
for old tree stumps.

Joyce Rupp in Rest Your Dreams On A Little Twig