CLIMBING VINE 1/3/92

Oh to be a climbing vine . . .

Reaching ever higher.

Not content just lying here . . .

Amidst the muck and mire!

Oh to cling unto the Rock . . .

The Rock that has no bounds,

Grasping reaching more each day . . .

His beauty to be found!

If by chance, I be torn down . . .

Not for long to stay,

But, reaching forth, to climb again . . .  

My climbing vine unfold!

 On the morrow of the day!

Should I be trampled, left for dead . . .

And no hope to be found,

May God breathe, life anew, once more . . .

And lift me from the ground.

Securing me, so firm to him . . .

Attached, by His own hold!

Watching fruit, from deep with-in . . .

Peggy Jeanine Woody

Copyright,1/3/92

This poem was written less than a month before the accident n which my 22 year old son, Shawn, lst both of his feet, a knee and a finger. his survival was a miracle and looking back I feel that the CLIMBING VINE was also prophetic as to how Shawn would recover. Needless to say that his accident was on January 28, 1992. It has been almost 19 years, and on April 30, 2010 he passed from this world to the next. From the moment of impact, he dealt with a pain that very few could endure. I truly believe that God took him home to give him peace and rest. I once told my Mother, when she was passing, "not to worry about me, cause in heaven a day is like a thousand years, and I will be home before supper, even if I live to be 100." I used to be afraid of death, but I have some wonderful people already there just waiting til I come.

Now during this period of my life, I feel that I am the Climbing Vine and having been torn down, I pray that someday I, too, can reach forth to climb again and not be content to just lie here on the ground, and though I sometimes feel like I have been torn down, I know my son would expect me to rise again, So I pray God would breathe, life anew and lift me from the ground. And someday soon, I hope to see fruit from deep with-in . . . My climbing vine unfold.