The dogwood is a sacred symbol 
Of a Man most misunderstood
Thinking He was only a false prophet
They hung Him on this cross of wood

From that day forward
The tree's branches
Began growing twisted
And small

Its limbs, all bent and weak
Its blood-stained blossoms 
Tell of the suffering He bore
As He turned His other cheek

From that day onward
The sad story has been repeated many times
It has touched the hearts of many
And changed many lives

There is no way to amend 
The heartbreak of His loved ones
Or to repair the damage that was done
But .. the sacrifice of His life 

Was not all in vain
For .. still yet
We believe in the Miracle
Of the Risen Son 

© 2000 Sandra Lewis Pringle