Miracles Don't Grow On Trees
The men grieved quietly yet weeping could be heard
while carrying the boy to his grave
The boy’s soul was a runaway soul
buying a one-way ticket leaving in the dead of night
His mother helpless can’t see daylight
Soon father and son would be together again
Alone in despair grieving friends
Their words bring no relief she was cursed
The sun has risen but not her son
Miracles don’t grow on trees
Not often anyway
It was a day she would never forget
Neither would we written to remind us
When a crowd walked by the Son of Man
walked up to the somber men a strange scene
holding her son’s soul less body her only son
Don’t cry he said to her with a comforting smile
drowning in tears he dried her face
This poor mother was of no importance
Yet Jesus Christ gave a simple command
only God knows what happened next
He paid for the return ticket for the runaway soul
Her son rose from the dead the darkness cleared
The sun shone again the curse disappeared
It was a day of miracles written as a reminder
That miracles don’t grow on trees you know
Not often anyway
Frank Black Blacharczyk
Luke 7:11-15
Copyright © Frank Black Blacharczyk | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment