Laying in bed, looking at
the cross over head. Thinking
about, when the dogwood grew. And
how, even before it’s first bloom,
You knew. It’s blossoms, its timbers,
it’s hues. You, Gave It Life! But,
they would choose. And with its roots
deep! Tears and Blood weep. For the
breaking and the giving, of the bread.
The loss. The cost. Words already
written. Already said. The price,
bringing darkness to light. So we could
all, have new heart. New sight.Conquering
sin. All, so we can live again.
Timbers
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