This feels like a benediction for hidden seasons. I love how you let the unseen do the real work here—roots forming, discernment growing, empathy costing something—while the “noise” of shaking leaves fades into the background. The line “More than you know is budding” stayed with me. There’s a deep freedom in how you release the outcome at the end… to be unhidden, or not, and still praise Him. Quiet, patient, and true. Thank you for this.
This really spoke to me, Ashley, especially the way you honor the hidden seasons without trying to rush them. There’s a quiet reassurance here that growth doesn’t always announce itself loudly. Sometimes it happens beneath the surface, where roots deepen before anything visible appears. That feels both comforting and deeply true.
The line about “the hefty price tag” of empathy stood out too. Discernment, compassion, spiritual depth; they rarely come cheaply. They’re often formed in places where we feel unseen, misunderstood, or even overlooked. Yet those very spaces seem to shape the capacity to truly see others later. That’s a sacred exchange, even when it hurts.
I also appreciated the ecological imagery, palm resilience, oak righteousness, and cypress protection. It suggests that maturity isn’t one-dimensional. God seems to cultivate multiple strengths at once: endurance, stability, sheltering presence. That reflects Isaiah 55 beautifully, a transformation that ultimately points back to His faithfulness rather than our striving.
And to your implicit question about how it landed: it reminded me that hiddenness isn’t absence, it’s often preparation. Whether or not the “unhidden” moment comes publicly, the intimacy formed with God in those quiet places is already a kind of fulfillment.
Thank you for sharing something so honest and reflective. It feels like both a poem and a gentle spiritual companion.
Ahhh thank you so much Ze, I LOVED ALL OF THIS!!!! "Whether or not the “unhidden” moment comes publicly, the intimacy formed with God in those quiet places is already a kind of fulfillment." YES YES YES! Thank you for reading my poem, means a lot. Blessings Ze, Ashley
This feels like a benediction for hidden seasons. I love how you let the unseen do the real work here—roots forming, discernment growing, empathy costing something—while the “noise” of shaking leaves fades into the background. The line “More than you know is budding” stayed with me. There’s a deep freedom in how you release the outcome at the end… to be unhidden, or not, and still praise Him. Quiet, patient, and true. Thank you for this.
Ahhhhh amen to amen Kevin. Thank you for your feedback, I loved it!!
This really spoke to me, Ashley, especially the way you honor the hidden seasons without trying to rush them. There’s a quiet reassurance here that growth doesn’t always announce itself loudly. Sometimes it happens beneath the surface, where roots deepen before anything visible appears. That feels both comforting and deeply true.
The line about “the hefty price tag” of empathy stood out too. Discernment, compassion, spiritual depth; they rarely come cheaply. They’re often formed in places where we feel unseen, misunderstood, or even overlooked. Yet those very spaces seem to shape the capacity to truly see others later. That’s a sacred exchange, even when it hurts.
I also appreciated the ecological imagery, palm resilience, oak righteousness, and cypress protection. It suggests that maturity isn’t one-dimensional. God seems to cultivate multiple strengths at once: endurance, stability, sheltering presence. That reflects Isaiah 55 beautifully, a transformation that ultimately points back to His faithfulness rather than our striving.
And to your implicit question about how it landed: it reminded me that hiddenness isn’t absence, it’s often preparation. Whether or not the “unhidden” moment comes publicly, the intimacy formed with God in those quiet places is already a kind of fulfillment.
Thank you for sharing something so honest and reflective. It feels like both a poem and a gentle spiritual companion.
Blessings,
Ze Selassie
Ahhh thank you so much Ze, I LOVED ALL OF THIS!!!! "Whether or not the “unhidden” moment comes publicly, the intimacy formed with God in those quiet places is already a kind of fulfillment." YES YES YES! Thank you for reading my poem, means a lot. Blessings Ze, Ashley
I love this poem!
Ahhh thank you Tofu!
From Papa's heart. 😊
Ahhh thank you Tom!