Upon this Tree
Dead upon this tree
I am like You. Unresponsive
To the lower parts of me—
That crooked bend into the
Dark of self slathered with foolish pride.
Risen to live from the roots this tree
I am like You. Quickened with
Life that crushed the gates of hell.
Dressed in glories of white, dipped once in
Blood. High melodies of light I sing.
The leaves of this tree are unseen, rooted
And flourished by a Crystal River. They are
Healing hearts, building bridges, salving
Wounds, succoring the savage, binding bruises,
Stripping the thorny rose, now fragrant of dew.
~Bonnie Saul Wilks, Estes Park, Colorado, June 3, 2011