This cross is the tree of my eternal salvation, nourishing and delighting me. I take root in its roots, I am extended in its branches, I am delighted by its dews, I am fertilized by its spirit as by a delightful breeze. In my tent I am shaded by its shade, and fleeing the excessive heat I find this refuge moist with dew. Its flowers are my flowers; I am wholly delighted by its fruits and I feast unrestrainedly on its fruits, which are reserved for me always. This is my nourishment when I am hungry, my fountain when I am thirsty, my covering when I am stripped, for my leaves are no longer fig leaves but the breath of life.
This is my safeguard when I fear God, my support when I falter, my prize when I enter combat, and my trophy when I triumph. This is my narrow path, my steep way. This is the ladder of Jacob, the way of angels, at the summit of which the Lord is truly established.
This is my tree, wide as the firmament, which extends from earth to the heavens, with its immortal trunk established between heaven and earth; it is the pillar of the universe, the support of the whole world, the joint of the world holding together the variety of human nature and riveted by the invisible bolts of the Spirit, so that it may remain fastened to the divinity and impossible to detach. Its top touches the highest heavens, its roots are planted in the earth and in the midst its giant arms embrace the ever present breaths of air. It is wholly in all things and in all places.
Pseudo-Hippolytus, Paschal Homily
Locus Communis 