Once the mighty Dogwood-
Stood tall and so straight,
And from its strong timber-
A Cross-they would make.

As Our Savior hung there-
He took pity on the tree,
From this very day forward-
Another Cross-you’ll never be.

Slender, bent and twisted-
You will now always grow,
And a Cross-shaped blossom-
To the world you will show.

This will be a reminder-
For all the world to see,
When they look upon you-
They will always remember Me…


© Jeffrey Paul Guest
March 3, 2006