One of the beauties of quiet time in the morning is its meandering nature. If I have the sense to allow it, I end up in places I could never had otherwise gotten. Today, through a long chain I won’t recount, I ended up at this, from Mississippi John Hurt, which gently settled in:
I shall not be moved.
Like a tree, planted by the water, I shall not be moved.
The vaguely familiar song is presumably derived from Psalms 1:3
“He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, That brings forth its fruit in its season, Whose leaf also shall not wither; And whatever he does shall prosper.”
It occurs to me... 