When we see the small, oh joyful fate

God lives in the weed outside the  gate
Small and unobtrusive in the  grit
What we notice there   becomes our fate

Who looks down with care to see, relate
To   the  humble  soil, the wise, what’s fit?
God lives in the weed outside the  gate

Dandelions not roses I found late
By  the window ,  moths round lanterns flit
What we notice not decides our fate

Attending to the small ,the delicate
We learn, we see,  how weakness is our writ
God lives in the roots beside the  gate

Trees grow tall but roots are infinite
The artist paints grey shadows under-lit
What we notice not decides our fate

The model for the  life class quietly sits
The newer student stutters , is  this it?
God lives in the roots deep by the  gate
When we see the small, oh joyful fate