If Calvary’s tree could speak…

A poem for Good Friday…written from the perspective of the tree that Jesus was crucified on.

 *      *      *

Year by year, I gain a ring inside my bark and everything

is growing strong, yet this I see; two men are now approaching me.

An axe is cutting through my side-oh the creaking of my pride.

They strip my bark to bare the raw; I’m a Cedar of Lebanon.

They break my limbs and shave me thin, then tie me back together again.

Behold, what shame, I am a cross! What beast should die at such a loss?

Oh, my God is nearing me! Oh, that I could bend my knee:

my wretched sight, a tool of death.

Dear God, please take away my breath!

*

What? No, stop! It cannot be! The nails are pounding into me!

They pierce my Lord, how blind they are!

They have taken this too far!

If I had known that someday I would bear my Savior as He died,

I never would have hoped to live to see the pain this world could give.

*

My King, don’t die upon my chest, deserving only stately rest!

Why have You come to such a place that kills You, King, in all disgrace?

Oh King, Your blood is seeping in, so dark and red, now full of sin.

This death I’d stop, oh, if I could,

but what am I, this heart of wood.

*

© 2011 Brandon Scott Elrod

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