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Christian Tree Poems | Christian Poems About Tree

These Christian Tree poems are examples of Christian poems about Tree. These are the best examples of Christian Tree poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

A Single Leaf Out of A Tree

A single leaf, 
Falls out of a tree above me,
 As it twist and turn, 
The wind blows it in my direction, 
It symbolizes the ending point of my 
struggles and all my pain, 
It tells me that they twist and turn, 
But never remain, 
It takes a sudden fall next to me, 
But why? 
It symbolizes the thought of being 
It tells me that someone is always 
by my side, 
As I write, 
The leaf flies away, 
As if it had a huge success in 
Nature communicates with us in 
many ways, 
Not with words, 
But with a single leaf out of a tree.

Copyright © Anthony Scandrick II

Details | I do not know? | |

Welcome 2013

Well we are already a couple of months in so i just wanted to say welcome. 
this will be a new journey for the both of us, so i hope it will be awesome. 
I will try to write more than usual this year, I promise. :)
What would help tho if you readers would send me topics and stuff to help me write about things cuz my mind goes way faster than my fingers and i cant think of just one thing. lol. so thank you readers. plz comment and tell me your thoughts.

Copyright © Roman Chebukin

Details | Quatrain | |

The tigress' mark

She prowls the night
with clenched jaw and pride,
nothing able to smite
her remorseless stride.

The ominous reflection of moon 
shines forth from devouring eyes
of a nocturnal beauty spun on the loom
of the Creator's bid and sighs.

Grace moves her every limb
and she precedes an enraged scream
caused by ruins of a forest now grim
and held alive by all but one stream.

Her claws prophesy of vengeance 
though her heart yearns for reconciliation.
Yet now there would be no leniency 
for a soul's annihilation. 

Now on journeys through lush valleys and ashes
she will embark
until all that remains after furious thrashes
will be the tigress' mark.

Copyright © Robyn Thomas

Details | Free verse | |

Christmas Poems For Kids And Teenagers VIII: The Christmas Tree

Come to me you little ones, I’m your seasonal Christmas tree Triangular I’ve always been Representing His love, your Hope and your faith Come to me you little ones, I’m your seasonal Christmas tree I share with you so many lights Reminding you to celebrate His glow Come to me you little ones, I’m your seasonal Christmas tree I have a stand, one but strong Cling unto Him to be your Rock. Come to me you little ones, I’m your seasonal Christmas Tree Can you see how green I’ve always been? That’s exactly how he’ll keep you nourished All through the year Come to me you little ones, I’m your seasonal Christmas tree Always looking good in awesome decorations You are not the only one with new robes Yes! B’cos it’s Christmas!

Copyright © Funom Makama

Details | I do not know? | |


It's March. we'll never reach it/ no matter how fast you go/
I'm breathing/ it's cold and chilly/ I'm lying right on the floor/
It's March. it's obedient, humble, ridiculous, playful and rude/
with lipstick on mirror's surface/ "everything's gonna be good"/
it's night. black veil in square / of window /and it expands/
you can take any star from the heaven’s roof/ grabbing it with your hand/
milky way - is the fountainhead channel / for galaxies to begin /
get the glass from the kitchen and pour it /with pure and shining moon milk/
Emptiness isn’t the absence/ of particles/ molecules/ cells
Like if they never knew the secrets/ like if they nothing have to tell/
Void’s more like broken dishes / pieces stuck somewhere in chest/ 
We make a short trailer of our movie/ trying to do our best/
Cigarettes/ coffee/ balcony/ exhale-eat-pray- and love/
Morse is similar to the Braille alphabet/ falling as music above/
Night is dying / I see its grin/ universe’s twirling the window touch/
I look into its soul/which is eaten/ by sadness/ it’s March. It is March.

Copyright © Ilya Emelin

Details | I do not know? | |

Dark Christmas

3 am.
The alarm clock in my head wakes me with a 
silent clanging.
Outside, the rain is falling so hard. It sounds like someone's
trying to break into my room.
It's Christmas Day.
It might as well be August 25th because the conversation in my head has not changed
since then. "You are a piece of shit."
I think of things I need to worry about, things I've worried about since August 25th and way before that.
My anxiety runs through my veins like hot chemo.
I stagger to the living room and stare at the half-decorated Christmas tree ...
gold balls weighing down one side. Empty green takes up the other. Oh, there are two figurines of kittens that I bought at a garage sale in Staten Island in 1998.
God. 3:10 am.
A whole day to spend by myself.
Not a fake friend in sight today, with their banal conversations about picking up their laundry or meeting at the gym at whatever time to do arms or back.
Just as well; I get a blank stare from them when I want to talk about chasing happiness or being childless at 53.
The TV is my savior. It pulls me out of myself.
Bing Crosby comes on singing "White Christmas." He's dancing
with those two impossibly shiny bleached blondes. And they all have those white, almost blue American teeth -- not one out of place.
12 pm.
I wake up on the couch and "White Christmas" is still playing; it must be a marathon.
Outside, the rain has turned to snow and there are two messages on my phone -- from Christian friends inviting me to their houses for the day.
It's tough being a Buddhist on Christmas. OK, so I know, as the Buddhists say, everything is OK as long as I let it be OK.
But this is one day of the year I don't want to "be."
I consider whether to shower. It takes 10 minutes to decide. I let the hot water run down my back, and I don't know if it's burning from the water or my nerve endings.
I don't want to face Christmas - but I have decided to join life and go to Cory's to see his kids, stare at the tree and eat some turkey.
I decide to take a Xanax, and I stick one in my pocket as assurance.
Maybe some of this gloom will yet lift from my heart.

Copyright © don munro

Details | Free verse | |


Are we awake or are we still sleeping?
Blind to the hurt, and deaf to the weeping.
Ashamed of religion and supportive of the new,
Aware of the lies and hidden from what’s true. 

Worship the evil and turn away the pure,
Developing disease with an unknown cure.
Starving the poor and overfeeding the wealthy.
Killing the sick and drugging the healthy. 

Going to war for some kind of power,
Building tall structures over all types of flower.
Cutting the trees and polluting the air,
All out of greed, with no sort of care. 

Turning us against our own, 
And help from up above.
Making us beings of hate,
Instead of ones of love. 

Demonizing the mystic,
Criticizing the wise.
Making our own family members,
Into people that we despise.

Awaken to the torment, 
Be aware of all the pain. 
Those who are misleading,
And claiming that we are insane.

Copyright © Alyssa Waters

Details | Personification | |

The Apple Tree

Apple Tree

I do not know why, but for the longest time, it has been assumed that I was in the Garden of Eden. I’ve been seen in gardens, orchards, and the yards of many people, but there is no proof that I was ever in Eden.  But let’s just assume that I was indeed the tree realistically known as the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.

For heaven’s sake, let’s just assume that I was an innocent bystander, absorbing nutrients from the garden and producing juicy apples. Yes, I was climbed upon by the devil, picked from by the woman, and eaten from by both Adam and Eve. And can anyone imagine how disrespected I felt and taken for granted? Remember, neither the devil nor Eve consulted me about apples from me.
I grew and produced the apple that caused God to be displeased, and forced him to drive them from the garden. Moreover, at least two bites of an apple from my limbs changed the course of history for both nature and all of mankind.  I must say that I am not proud of any of this. But you must remember, there was plenty of blame to go around, but when the punishment was handed down, I was not included.                                                              

And remember, I have the  knowledge and remember very well, because I was there and witnessed literally everything.  I even heard the devil lying to Eve, and if I could talk, I would have rebuked the devil, and advised Eve to slowly walk away.  I didn’t know where Adam was, but the least I could  have done was to call out to him saying, “Beware the devil on my limb!”.                                                       

I tell you, I was so sad when I heard God’s voice telling Adam and Eve about their future lives, their limitations and restrictions. Adam was to work hard enough to sweat; and Eve would always have pain when she would give birth to their children.                                                    

It was painful for me to listen to, and enough to make even a tough apple tree like myself break down and weep. But the best part was when I heard God tell the devil about his punishment. That’s when I began to rejoice.  Wow!  I could not shake a leg, but I shook every limb and all the bark on my body.
08262015 TPC

Copyright © curtis johnson

Details | I do not know? | |


In the vast beauty and diversity
                 of the reaches of the cosmos
           impresses upon us all
the shear minute dust we are
                 in any comparison
The simplicity of laws
            that govern it's most basic
     and complex movements
Birth , Life , Death
                 some would distain this as "circular"
as the patterns in creation are
for all things existing within its confines
the birth , life , death of stars   , galaxies
entropy and the recirculation of those elements
into new structures encased
                 in the womb for new material
apply equally to the diversity of structures
                 cycling on the little blue marble
seed  sprout   bush    tree     seed 
seed  sprout   plant    flower     seed
seed   baby    child     adult       seed
same  down    onthe   cellular    level
same  down    tothe    atomic     level 
                 and its clock
in a state of perfectly circular self propagation
For those who foolishly accuse us of being
Let me explain              a simple something
     how we measure time in the cosmos
is based on a circular orbital movement of planets
                      and stars
and as for thinking
are questions seeking answers which just
                     lead to more questions
          and that's the beauty of it
       simplicity defines even the most
        complex systems that function
right down to the circuit boards for computers
        and technology
Mama      seals     it      with     Kiss
        Keep it simple stupid
anyone who doesn't know
a clock embedded in the universe
has not recognized his own 

Ecc 8:17
COPYRIGHT © 2013 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC

Copyright © Poetryof Providence

Details | Free verse | |

Angels Atop the Apple Blossom Trees

Angels flying around the the tops of apple blossom trees
Trying to soak up the aroma
Dancing on air currents to get a quick sniff in the breeze
All the while playing their harps and fiddles

How majestic is their flying?
How majestic is their twirling?

For each and every angel that flies above the orchard
Becomes intoxicated with the scent of heaven
There is no greater scent on all the earth 
That represents the earth’s gardens like the apple blossom tree
So the next time you are out and about walking 
And you see the apple blossoms in fullest bloom
Just close your eyes and you’ll be dreaming that a dozen angels are staring at 
you.... because most likely... THEY ARE!

Gwendolen Rix

Copyright © Gwendolen Rix

Details | Rhyme | |

A Single Tree

A Single Tree
Steve L. Siegel
August, 2015
Up on the upper Hoh River there is a trail 
Only two and haft miles long, at end of trail is a tree
Were it has turned into a cross all by Gods own hands
People have been coming up there for years to see.
There is no pastor up here
Only a log beam made into a bench
Where people come pray or meditate
Some getting closer to God within the tree’s reach.

Myself it was time for self-reflections 
I knew that for me it was time to grow
Where I learned that a little rain must fall
Some-times for Jesus, so that I can learn to be the show.
I sure don’t know why this tree grew this way
By the laws nature it should not have
 Nothing has ever hurt this tree
No fire or lighting has ever have.
I do truly believe that this tree
Has seen more people turn their lives around
Then any church or pastor on any Sunday
Maybe, that’s why God put this tree in this piece of ground. 
Author’s Notes
This tree is for real it is a big spruce somehow instead going straight up
It has two branches that forms a cross.
It at Olympic Nat, Park, Hol campgrounds  

Copyright © Steven Siegel

Details | Rhyme | |

Upon this Tree

Upon this Tree
Written by Adam M.

Look upon this tree,
a Man hung for us to
The blood which
stains this tree,
is the reason we are

The scars and lashes
upon His back,
all for us, He did
not slack.
A precious life He
gave to us,
surrendering all
without a fuss.

Out of love His life
He gave;
this lost lamb, His
blood He save.
By His blood our
sins He lave,
the price His life
in which He gave.

Death has claimed
Him, but claimed Him
no more;
upon that tree our
sins He bore.
Conquering Hell a
battle won,
victory is He, God's
only Son.

Copyright © Adam M. Snow

Details | Narrative | |

If I Were A Tree

If I were a tree what kind would I be? 
Would I see more of life
If I felt less strife? 
Would my worth grow with time 
Like fine wine?
Will my beauty last? 
Will my color show in the midst of snow? 
Would famine, fire, disease or flood
Diminish my will to be, 
My desire to know who created me? 
Would I feel rain?
Would I complain of endless pain?
Would I tire of standing with nothing to do? 
No bending low, no thoughts to sow, 
No whispers to sound; 
No laughter
No crying no sighing. 
If I were a tree would my Lord be with me? 
Would I reach for heaven knowing I’d never go?
Am I a treasure to be bought and sold 
To be left alone out in the cold?
If I were a tree it would be 
The one that had Christ nailed to me 
For all to see.

Copyright © Jonathan Bellmann

Details | Free verse | |

The Glory Of A Tree Or A Branch Of A Vine

Fortune and Fame,
Is this the root of the value of your name?

If all your valued were stripped away,
would be like a tree who leaves were stolen away by the winds of a hurricane?

In the eye of a watching world,
would you appear to be like a hopeless tree,
stand in the forest with naked branches and rotted out roots?

If you were like a branch that was grafted into a healthy strong vine named Jesus The . Nazarene.
Though the hurricanes will come and go and steel your fortune and fame
Your branches will never remain naked.
For the vine's root will never rot.
For the  vine is the source of eternal life and has over come the power behind the force of the hurricanes.

The branch that abides in the vine will always renew it's fruit.

Which is your fortune and fame rooted in?

Are you a tree standing alone in the forest try to produce your own glory?

Are you a branch grafted the vine name Jesus The Nazarene?

Written by Stephen J. Vattimo
Sept 12, 2015

Copyright © Stephen J. Vattimo

Details | Etheree | |

Christmas Tree

Star Sitting On top of The Christmas tree Lighting the way home Offers hope in the dark Comforting those who are lost Telling an old story anew Of angels singing their songs of praise And those humble enough to seek wisdom Trunk Centered With branches Spreading outward Eternally green With life which refuses To surrender its hold of The hope which wells up from inside Wrapping each branch with multiform joy Each memory displayed for all to see Gifts Wrapped in Paper and Ribbons and bows Waiting for children Eager and curious Just a little impatient Adults are not much different, When it comes to waiting for good things? Loving hearts cannot be opened quickly

Copyright © Michael Spangle