The Broken Branch

Two sticks lie fallen, stuck in the mud,
No longer as branches, no longer to bud.

One said to the other, “You’ll see one day soon!
I’ll stretch like I used to, I’ll point to the moon!”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” he replied in disgust.
“You may have held bird’s nests, but now you’re eating dust.”

*****************

The first stick continued, not to be dismayed,
He responded with Hope as his vision he laid.

“I KNOW I should be up there, swaying in the breeze,
A little part of heaven, in the glory of the trees.”

“Oh, trunk the thought now!” said the stick in the dirt,
“You’ll lay here and rot and you’ll just be hurt.”

*****************

And thus it seemed so, when thru sunshine and rain
He remained in the mud, with tears that brought pain.

Then along came a man, outcast and down.
He took the hopeful stick and carried it around.

He used it for prodding his sheep and his foals,
for walking up hills and stirring the coals.

He leaned on the stick, and to this simple end
Tte stick was content to be such a friend.

*****************

But soon in good time, God called out the man.
He said, “Go speak for me. Bring the stick in your hand.”

And so the stick’s dream caught the pity of God,
Who said, “Watch what will happen when you’re my little rod!”

Now the man raised him high, swaying in the breeze.
And we all remember his glory, when God parted the seas!



written by: Lance Beauchamp
cowritten by: Melanie Beauchamp