Tree Crying

It stood so tall and proud long ago,

eager and lively branches moving to and fro.

It's roots had been planted in dry ground.

Still, they went deep and the tree grew sound.

Then came that fateful day

when people decided it was in the way.

Cutting the thrusting branches was for a common good.

Instead of the singing leaves, came a loud crash of wood.

Have you ever reached the point in life when you knew

this world no longer has anything to offer you?

The Spirit of God cut across my life, like this tree.

He needed to get my attention and set me free.

Before the tree could be used, it had to be cut down.

Then it had to be cut up, and hauled out of town.

Like with me, twists and knots were everywhere.

There was nothing straight about it's wood when bare.

Long pieces were formed and nailed together,

readied for the tragic purpose of another.

Spikes were driven, the proud tree now crying.

For on it's solid wood, the Savior was dying.





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