From under the blossom tree I am
with my head resting upon my hands
blue backdrop so perfect for the view
of tiny blooms delicately kissed by dew

From under the blossom tree I dream
for hours and hours, or so it would seem
captivated by where my imagination sails
inspired by those little white bells.

From under the blossom tree I sigh
a breath so deep, my spirit so high
like a myriad angels the flowers sing
praising the Son with all their being

From under the blossom tree I sleep
cradled by the grass beneath it's feet
wind play your lullaby in the tree
chime along with the blossoms and me.
© J. Blair Lane, April 2007

"Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith!"
Luke 12:27-28