Come quickly, O Creator,

to heal your broken trees.

The cedars of Palestine are

torn apart by rocket shrapnel.

The cottonwoods of Mississippi

are still grieving the mob lynchings,

their memories held deep in their roots.

The broad fig trees of Damascus are

recoiling their branches to hide

their eyes from the bloodshed.

The palms in Benghazi are still

scorched from the fires of

death & raging frustration.

Come, O Creator, to salve

the wounds of your creation

and bring new life to the trees.

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