The Dogwood Flower
I was a youngster when my sight began to realize,
When I viewed a tree of flowers that grew across the road.
Whereas this time of beauty was forming within my eyes,
Where the shapes and lines are made from the clay that memories mold.
A flower on the tree branch seemed to bloom before my sight.
Sacred bloom was a symbol of where Jesus had been nailed,
The central color brown in midst of petals of pure white.
Yet, my eyes saw baby Jesus; and my soul had been unveiled.
Copyright © Hilda Greenhough | Year Posted 2024
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