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