Elizabeth Santos
Poet Laureate
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Christian Poetry

IF TREES COULD SPEAK

Oh forest, if your trees could speak
The secrets you withhold
In naked winter, cold and bleak
What splendors would unfold

The seasons of a thousand years
Contained in ageless rocks
Are footsteps of the bear and deer
Etched in your music box

If trees could speak, your branch would strum
A melody serene
Of whispering fern and buzzing hum
Beneath the summer green

Of fallen timber, hollowed out,
Refrains of death and birth
Of fawn and cub and sapling sprout
And seedlings of the earth

The crackling of an autumn shrub
The strains of meadow lark
The honing scuff of antler’s rub
Against an aging bark

The trees would tell the wondrous tales
That only God conceives
Of golden ships with crimson sails
Across a sea of leaves

The trees would weep the tears I’ve wept
While stumbling, weal and frail
Beside me, Jesus’ silent step
Along this wooded trail

 

I SEE NOT THE BREEZE

I see not the breeze, yet it touches my face
With a welcoming warmth and a soothing embrace
It kicks up the leaves and it churns up the seas
It blows blackbird wings, yet I see not the breeze

I see not the perfume that’s shed by the rose
Yet it touches my breath as it comes and it goes
And the sweet songs of summer have never been seen
But the twitter of swallow floats over the green

Let it live, let it thrive, let it silently be
The image of God that my eyes cannot see
For His Love and His Power will always remain
Too splendid and vast for my eyes to contain

I see not God’s face, yet I know He is there
Hearing the words of my heart laden prayer
But His deeds are quite visible all through the land
And his wildflowers bloom, yet I see not His hand


DUST TO DUST

A slice of sunlight pierced the stillness of the morning air
And lit the tiny particles of dust that floated there
They mesmerized my waking eyes, still caught up in a dream
And there I lay, just gazing a the dust within a beam

From dust I came, and to that very dust I will return
Before I go, I still have many lessons to be learned
But please, dear God, when I am gone, take care of everyone
But put my little bits of dust within a beam of sun


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