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The Wound
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By Geneva Poynter
Other Poems by Geneva Poynter


 



                      The Wound


 


A tender young tree grew by a beautiful stream


It would surely do quite well there it would seem.


The trunk grew straight and strong in the wind;


All its branches and leaves would wave and bend.


Then someone came walking by that bank


Wielding a sharp axe which he heavily sank


Into that young tree in all its splendor.


The axe stuck tight and the tree did render


Sap to run and bind and help heal that wound.


The tree grew as if the axe had only pruned.


 


It grew around the axe head ‘til all one could see…


The top of the axe sticking out of the tree.


The sharp blade was still right there inside;


Its wound, evidently, the tree couldn’t hide.


Through years of growing, try as it would,


It couldn’t grow normally like a young tree should.


It gave shade each Spring, pretty leaves each Fall;


Still something was not quite right there after all.


Though it began with a healthy, smooth trunk,


Now it was lumpy, crooked, and looked like junk.


 


The young girl grew in such an idyllic setting.


She would do well with the care she’d be getting.


She was loved, always taken to church;


She began to grow well just like that birch.


Something happened that hurt like that axe


Which stayed buried so deeply, the hidden facts;


‘Til it all came boiling to the surface.


She’d tried to heal herself just like that tree,


The axe still inside where healing should be.


She felt ‘lumpy’, ‘crooked’ and wanted to flee.


 


When, finally, she admitted the hurt was there,


She found God was waiting, her life to repair.


He didn’t change what happened in the past;


He gave perfect love, healing that will last.


She gave Him anger and frustration;


He gave her His peace, a new application


Of healing balm which only He can give.


She was sure then – His Grace always would live


Inside, helping forgive wrongs of the past


And live anew ‘cause His joy would really last!   


 


 


 


 



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Submitted: Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Last Updated: Wednesday, March 11, 2009

About the Poet
I asked Jesus to be my Savior when I was 11 - that was almost 70 years ago as of June 2015. My husband and I had been married for 54 years as of March 2010 before he went Home to Heaven, and we have one son & daughter in law and 3 grandchildren.


Other Poems by Geneva Poynter

Currently Playing: All Hail the Power of Jesus Name


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