Tree of Life

The world is like a forest,
And man is like a tree.
And in my mind I search to find
Which one God sees in me.
 
Would I still be a seedling
Seen through the eyes of God?
A budding shoot whose tender root
Is just below the sod?
 
We need to have an anchor
When winds of doubt arise;
A grounded hope to help us cope
When storm clouds fill our skies.
 
There’s nothing wrong with seedlings — 
We all must pass this stage;
But time should bring another ring,
And growth should come with age.
 
Would I be seen as rotting?
Or nearly falling down?
An empty shell where termites dwell — 
A log upon the ground?
 
Lord, count me with the living — 
I want to live for You!
Come, prune and trim each bough and limb.
Refresh me with Your dew.​

​​The world is like a forest,
And I am like a tree,
And in this realm of oak and elm,
I wonder which I’d be.
 
To be like the saguaros — 
That bloom where they are born;
Where desert heat cannot defeat
Their flower and their thorn.
 
To be like the sequoias — 
That kiss the starry skies;
And point the way more every day
To paradise on high.
 
To be like the palmettos — 
Where sunsets on the beach
Are just beyond their outstretched frond
Yet still within their reach.
 
Or maybe like the dogwood — 
That tell the story of
The cross and tomb with every bloom,
And everlasting love.
 
Lord, plant me where I’m needed
For all my world to see;
I want to share the fruit I bear,
And be Your sort of tree.