THE TREE
There is a tree that really haunts me
This same tree also intrigues me
It’s a tree that marks the land
Standing alone with bare-stripped hands
Where lightening once struck its place
It’s fashioned with enduring grace
Its heart pumps sap up through this tree
Where strength still proclaims its dignity
One knows this tree has stood its place
It’s marked its spot with endless grace
From the gnarly boughs with hands bare-clean
Protruding from its core of luscious green
From deep inside – somewhere out of sight
This tree has drawn unusual might
There is a root that taps a well
From the unseen where resources dwell
Its deepened soul refused wind’s sway
While other trees fell to their decay
Even though this tree shows scars of pain
In its central core true life remains
This is the life that God provides
When roots like these grow deep inside
Why does this tree haunt and intrigue?
It’s because I think - this tree is me.
