Grey Tree
There’s a tree
who’s grey branches are laden with snow.
Alone stands the Tree
majestic in the silent dawn
but alone.
There is no one to warm the tree,
no one to speak him comfort.
I’m afraid my Lord is the tree, today.
I have left Him outside my window,
cold and ladened down,
alone.
Who shall go to warm Him?
Who shall bring Him comfort?
I rise and go to the window to ask Him in
but – He calls me out,
out into the cold
to stand with Him,
alone in the silent coming light.
Posts
