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The Tree by Kathleen Higham Thoughts may come and give me pause As the wind blows through a tree Where did it come from where will it go I believe only God can see And there are times I ponder the tree My mind I feel it churn And prayerfully I ask You Lord Today what shall I learn And fleeting as the thought may be It feels like mine to keep I lift my eyes to sing to You Let my roots be strong and deep I want to share Your spiritual truth By writing it on this paper But I have to wait to hear Your voice It must come from You my Maker I see trees bending in a gentle breeze Along with skies that are blue and clear And patiently I wait for You Poised eagerly to hear And the words that come from You alone They must always serve You well For a delicate tree that leans too far Might lean it's way to hell What is it Lord that comes to me As I query about the tree You used it yes You used it As You died to set us free And my heart it aches As my thoughts remember The ultimate gift You gave Was Christ in complete surrender Now my thoughts become a vision And my prayers become a plea Dear Lord please help me follow The Man that died on the tree |
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This poem may be use within Christian ministries for any non-profit purpose without requesting permission.