There is a tree,
The holiest of trees,
The tree God willed to be,
Before all time,
Before all creation,
The tree to give meaning to trees.
From seed to shrub,
The Lord did sow,
Generation upon generation,
’Til the trees of the sweetest heritage did grow,
Silently in the wood of a ravaged nation.
A thousand years did pass,
But the Lord remained ever patient,
Until the seed of the holy tree fell,
And in the soil began its gestation.
With joy the tree grew in oblation,
Sturdy, it reached for the sky,
Until came the time for its mission.
It became the Lord’s Cross.
The Glory from on High .