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While at my window I can see,
A flower, a bush and a tree.
In summer all its leaves aright,
Winter's stark, a barren delight.
Reflecting then I often pause,
Recalling all those things we cause,
To be connected with a tree,
Things sad and things so filled with glee.
At Christmas time bright and merry,
With tinsel, lights and smells we tarry,
And joyfully recall the birth,
Of God who came and lived on earth.
With wood he worked as carpenter,
He made a door we can enter,
Through actions taken later on,
When at last his life was gone.
Another tree then took the place,
Of one that stands by fireplace,
A tree so stark, so plain so bare,
That none dare stop to see it there.
But in this life 'tis plain to see,
You cannot have a Christmas Tree,
Without Good Friday's pregnant one,
Death defeated, redemption won!
© 1999, Deacon Ed Faulk |
