though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you
yield to him,
though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you
believe in him,
though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you
so shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth
so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height
and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
so shall he descend to your roots
and shake them in their clinging to the earth.