“Roots of a big old vine growing close to the porch”

...All the folks who came ahead of us

are like the brown roots of a big old vine

growing close to the porch,

and even though those roots are way down

deep in the ground where we can’t see them,

they’re still there.

Always.

And we grow from them, our whole lives,

and then, if we’re lucky, others grow from us.

from Resting in the Bosom of the Lamb,

by Augusta Trobaugh