Tree
Fragile limbs broken and scattered.
Powerful trunk beaten and battered.
Your very nourishment,
incised from its source.
To die and to dry,
wither in the heat.
Severed beyond recognition,
by unfeeling steel,
or consumed in the flame,
till naught is left but black brokenness…
A miserable fate,
a meaningless existence.
If you had a mind,
is that what you would think?
Yet could you foresee,
A higher plan, a purpose, a destiny?
That one such as you
would hold in its sturdy form,
The Maker of all:
a new baby born.
And cradle to sleep
The Prince of Peace.
Another of you,
A ship would become
To hold the fishermen of souls.
And whose planks did uphold
He who is One, and yet Three.
The Maker of that beautiful sea.
2007-12-20
04:21:09
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13 answers
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asked by
Spiffs C.O.
4
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Poetry
And lastly…
Most sadly,
One of your kind,
gave support to a King
As he hung to die.
Brokenness upon brokenness...
Yet, you did not fail
In your task that was set
Hold in your firm arms…
HIS arms, now outstretched…
To embrace the whole of creation
Worthy are you, oh, humble tree
To carry the King of the Nations.
And still to this day,
You honor your King
We set light on your boughs,
and gifts do we bring
to give to beloved,
to remind us of He:
The light of the world
Love’s gift given free.
We gather around your evergreen form
With family
And friends
All together and warm.
Teach us your wisdom
Most humble tree
That like you,
In your brokenness,
And unspokenness
Yet you continue to give.
And may it be that we see
How we are to live:
That though we have fallen
are battered and torn
we are to rise,
In new life be born.
2007-12-20
04:21:33 ·
update #1