It is seemly

The place where  my words live is overgrown
Despite it’s winter, freezing, and dark grey.
How did these creepers reach from their old home
The honeysuckle and the honey comb?
The Russian vine is wilder when it roams
The Ways of G-d  alone are not my ways.
The  place where my words died  is not yet shown
But   these days it is seemly should we pray.