Poetry

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The Prophetic 'Tree'

‘Twas interpreted a “bush.”
In Truth, ‘twas a humble ‘Tree,’
looking out from holy ground
at ten cities she did see.

Elohim called to a man,
“Come stand before this, My ‘Tree,’”
and fire fell down from heaven
to dance thereupon her leaves.

When needed Words were given
and the man went on his way,
the little ‘Tree’ remained there
to hear what her God would say.

“My little ‘Tree,’ I formed you
with a purpose and a plan
to endure fire from heaven
so that I could speak to man.

Do not be afraid, My ‘Tree;’
You’re branches remain intact.
You’re bearing fruit, even now,
more than ever now, in fact."

God waters her with the Word.
Her roots drink the overflow.
She's grown now -- a 'Glory Tree,'
though, her branches hang quite low.

She looks out at her cities
and prays a little prayer,
thanking the ‘Tree’ Creator
that He chose to put her there.

Though few have known the value
of that humble, little 'Tree,'
she knows the price paid for her.
See, that little 'Tree' is

me.
© Joyce Pool

Psalm 104:
2 He wraps himself in light as with a garment;

he stretches out the heavens like a tent
3 and lays the beams of his upper chambers on their waters.

He makes the clouds his chariot
and rides on the wings of the wind.

4 He makes winds his messengers,

flames of fire his servants.

5 He set the earth on its foundations;
it can never be moved.

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