The Boy and the Bleeding Tree

Always there
rooted deeply.
Beautiful forever, ageless.

Lying on the edge of the line.
Resting in the deepness of the grove.

Lying on the edge of the bed.
Resting in the deepness of his mother.

Speaking in the tone of the breeze.
Reaching out to the sun.

Speaking in tones of the Father.
Reaching out to the blind and dead.

Moving with a gentle wind.
Saving the weary traveler.

Moving with a gentle spirit.
Saving the weary soul.

Dying to an ax held by the hand.
Shaped by the hands of the carpenter.

Dying to a world held by the hands.
Shaped by the hands of the carpenter.

And thus, the boy met the bleeding tree.