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-Two Trees- (Father and Son) Another Perspective

by Bryan Miles

A tiny little shoot standing next to his dad
Felt tall and strong, and it made his heart glad
It gave him the confidence that no matter the day
His father was with him all the way
Standing beside him sturdy and secure
Though storms may come, and heavens pour
From the very beginning, by example he'd show
Manifesting God's word from head to toe
Reciting him scripture right from the start
Instilling it all from the bark to his heart
Deep down inside, as his branches grew strong
Coming into his own, knowing right from wrong
His son had a purpose; but for now, so did he
It takes a lot of love to turn a shoot into a tree
But he was his father, and that's what dads do
Guiding his son, till he flourished and grew
Into a tree, though in stature; not tall
No one in the forest suspected his call

Then came the day his dad's heart would break
Someone chopped down his son, and it wasn't by mistake
A handful of soldiers carried him away
Leaving dad in the dust to lovingly pray
Still a shoot to him, not a full grown tree
He saw with the eyes that most fathers see
He knew what was coming, and who was in control
His son had a part of saving many a soul
His father stood back for things were in his hands
Or should I say branches, but creation understands

The soldiers they pounded, and fashioned the wood
Into a cross, down the hill; there it stood
Then they laid it back down, and hung up a man
Piercing and spiking the palm of each hand
"Father forgive them," he heard the man say
That's where the shoot's purpose came into play
Yes, he was a shoot right off his father's back
And none of the father's traits did he lack
The shoot became a tree, the tree became a cross
No father in the forest had felt such a loss
But pride in his son filled every branch
Creation rejoiced in the circumstance
The shoot had a purpose, to lay down like Him
Giving everything up, limb upon limb

Let this be a lesson if you're going through a lot
Sometimes things appear like often they're not
The smallest of things have purpose my friend
So walk with the Lord right down to the end
You may appear tiny like a shoot in the woods
But deep down inside be aware of your goods
You're a child of the Father, yes, you are His son
And He promises to finish all the work He has done
So spread out your branches limb upon limb
You'll stretch towards the sky in reflection of Him

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Click Here to contact Bryan Miles to request permission to use this poem.