My Roots Poem by Corinne Watt

Carried in the mouth of His messenger dove like,
The seed of my life was purposely dropped.
God had me planted here for a weed free beginning,
And this little shoot appeared in Paisley Maternity.

Soon embedded in the town,
Designed to withstand its climate,
was nurtured by it's soil between paving stones,
And watered by it's rain in constant blessing showers.

The Master Gardener's ever watchful eye,
Prunes me daily of parasites that cluster,
As I yield to His cultivating craft,
Maturing in fruitfulness and blossoming in beauty.

I am a unique and complex individual specimen,
Amongst many other saplings so planted.
But we share this common soil,
And deep in Paisley are our roots.

I am grateful for my roots,
I am grateful for my soil,
I am grateful for the rain,
And I am grateful to the Gardener for my Paisley Plot.