Poem: Wisdom Grows

With tender tendrils
Wisdom grows
To measures'
No man really knows.
It grasps and holds
With tenacious will
Whatever stands
In its presence' still:
Long enough
For it to wind
Its growing structure
Through their mind.
Then, one day,
By all to be known
Instead of the person,
It's Wisdom that's shown:
Standing tall
As a Redwood tree
Full and fine,
Inside you and me.
We stand in awe
As she sows her seeds
Through our borrowed words
And mirrored deeds.
It is not latent charm or wit
But godly Wisdom grown to fit
As high and wide
And also deep
As we who wait
Will let her creep.