Today I picked up a leaf
From my favorite singing tree
Where I sat and prayed for Adam
And all his guys
Where I wept for the wounded
Where I wept for the dead
Where I sat and prayed for Josh
Where I sat and prayed for Mel
Where I wept for Mel
Where I weep for Adam
Many times I sat
Under its branches
And failed to hear its song
One day the Lord spoke
To my weary heart
Listen….be still….listen
Hear the trees sing
And then I heard it
It sang not a lament
but rather praise
The wind rustled through leaves
And it was if the tree rejoiced
Reveled
In exaltation
In praise to the King
To me it sang
“Peace, be still,
It will all be well
He lives
And because He lives
We can dance in the wind and the rain.”
The beautiful tall Sycamore Tree, that I have so often sat under, has dropped all its leaves. It sits quiet now, and naked. I shall miss its singing as the wind blows through its branches.
On the night of this writing, as I was leaving work, I paused outside and looked up at the old tree. It was still. Only a few leaves clinging to its limbs. As I looked up a gentle breeze began to blow, and the limbs of the tree began to move, and the few leaves clinging began to rustle and make sound......one last song before spring........sleep now old friend, I will see you in the spring.