Your people are grieving and weary,
Isolated and afraid.
We struggle to rejoice in budding trees,
To remember the sweetness of apple blossoms,
The rising sap of the maple tree.
We have so long been confined in isolation
By fear of sickness and death,
Plagued by ignorance and selfishness.
Help us remember the blessings of the trees.
The towering Spruce,
Whose branches held a lonely child,
In the infinite sky of cloud and blue,
And offered the blessing of sanctuary.
The ancient Black Walnut,
Where mother and child gathered nuts,
Carried them home in ragged wicker baskets,
A blessing of sweetness and sustenance.
The Shag Bark Hickory,
Standing guard at the graveside,
Its bark ragged like clothing torn in grief,
Witness to the blessings of memory and love.
And the Torah, Tree of Life.
Even in times of trouble and sorrow,
Its fruit eternally ripe,
With blessings of hope and healing,
With blessings of joy and peace.
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