My Father knows each branch
of the mighty oak tree.
How the limbs bend and twist,
only He is able to see.
He sees the tree struggle
through trials and stormy weather
and is aware of just what
the tree needs to hold together.
He sends the warmth of His smile
on a dark dreary day.
When there’s no rain for the tree,
crystal tears flow its way.
The Father knows each tree
which is His and hears it cry.
He alone can satisfy
and its need He’ll supply.
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