All the trees of the field,
wave their palms,
flowing with My praise,
through every Psalm.

My people are like the tree.
They rise so very slow,
rooted deep in the dark.
In My richness they grow.

No one but Me can see,
the roots in the soil,
growing in the secret place,
as the enemy's plan I foil.

One day I will unfold,
the whole story,
how I was received, 
not rejecting My glory.

The reward will come,
to those rooted in Me,
enjoying the Secret Place,
of Communion with Me.

Psalm 92

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