Your Tree Is Not Shaken

 The tree might be withered and the leaves may have left...

And the scars on the branches, are sad and bereft.

The vine on the ground, runs all intertwined...

On a course to devour, where doves are to dine.

Though barren with sorrow and clothed with no hope..

Your tree is determined, to sit tight as rope.

Though northeastern winds, blow raging with might..

Your tree is not shaken, because of God's light.

In the natural your heart, may be burdened with care..

For battles are raging, to fill you with fear..

Just remember the foundation, you were built up

on..

And rejoice evermore, for you are never forlorn.

In life there are seasons, to come and to go..

To deposit what is good, or to reap what you sow.

Goodbyes must be said, as some choose to go..

But those who remain, are the ones you must know.

When the harvest is ripe, they will come from afar..

For with baskets to fill, they will leap on the tar..

See through the Spirit and separate the tare..

For the wheat are the chosen and you must be aware.