The cherry tree stood tall and proud
And scattered blossoms far and wide
Until a whirling, swirling storm
Upset the tree upon its side.
The cherry tree was hard and old.
Its life was long and strength was true.
But this was just a chapter’s end;
The tree would have another use.
A spruce fell in that hurricane;
Its softer heart was taken fast.
But turning yet another page,
The spruce continued on its path.
The spruce and cherry met one day,
Both dried and sanded, cut and shaped.
The spruce was top, the cherry back:
An instrument they came to make!
So little do we know and see
Where we are meant to go…
But deep inside there shines a Spark,
The All there Is, that knows!
No one can choose a path for you
Or hand down what is right.
For like the trees you ebb and flow
With God as guiding Light.
Within you always, Pure and True,
If you will only knock
And open up your weary mind:
Its Center is the Rock.