The tears ran like a river
They cut and carved upon that tree;
Stripped it of blossom and bark.
Then, they made a rugged cross.
That's the day the world turned dark.
As Jesus hung upon that tree,
He was the last fruit it would bear.
For, Jesus was the fruit of God.
He was longsuffering and full of care.
The tree no longer stood proud,
As the blood of the Lamb did stain.
It bent with the weight of its shame
And it wanted to weep from the pain.
Jesus whispered to the tree,
"From this day forth shall you cry."
Thus grew the weeping willow
That had watched the Savior die.
The Weeping Willow Easter Poem © Claytia Doran
bbabe at 1s.net
Music "Ballad of the Cross" from Songs of Praise