Upon this Tree

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




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