The Grey Tree

Got a guitar, got a guitar on my back

And I'm standing on this lonesome railroad track

I can remember every detail of the dream, almost as if it were dredged up by reality. The day was cold, so cold that it seemed numb. Some went about their business, had no clue of what destiny had in store for us on Earth. They had heard of him and his radical teachings. They had heard of the miracles; some were curious and others didn't, or couldn't be bothered, to care.

Got a pebble, got a pebble in my hand

And I toss it out into the middle of the Rio Grande

I was not there in the line that watched him walk to that horrid place. I was not there as the nails entered his wrists. I was not there as the placard proclaiming him "King of the Jews" was nailed above his head, bruised and bleeding with the thorns on his face, slightly more pale than normal. But the wind summoned me.

Trains a comin'

It'll be here for too long

But I don't think I can stop it with a song

He was on the way to wherever I was going. The voices in the darkness laughed at him, fueled by the one who thought death would bring victory. He would not bring himself down; would not heed to their brutal words. Tears mingled with blood; sorrow with victory. The timber began to show signs of the wind and signs, tiny streams and dots, of his blood.

But the river keeps running

Don't even know that I'm around

I could throw in a million more and not slow it down

I stopped to watch him die. I did not hate him, but it was with mild interest as I watched hate fuel hate, mockery fueling mockery. He would not drink, would not speak. My head and my eyes turned toward his for just a brief moment. No injustice lay there for him. No reason for his pain or his crime. Was it mine there on that tree with him? It was mine.

Hey, that's kind of the way I'm feeling

Trying to stop your leaving

The cloud of darkness thickened as his eyes searched the place below his feet, seeing deep into the pits of hell where they danced with delight, not quite knowing it was their own undoing. I stepped forward, my eyes trying not to meet his in vain; searching for something. The wind billowed around us, but here it was still, lit by bleak sunlight. The world outside dark, the world here a light grey.

Trains a comin'

River's runnin'

I saw the man beneath the tree, weeping. I could not hear him, but I could see. I could see that it was not in my power to stop his weeping; briefly wondering if I should not be doing the same. The eyes of the man on the cross caught mine and I gasped. They looked at me in a way that no one ever had. Naked but uncaring; full of love and the charity that he would bring, longed to bring.

Trains a comin'

Tears are running

There was a sound from him as I could no longer turn away. In the stillness, I heard others approach, a small group I'd never seen. My eyes turned as a hand reached for my shoulder, another thrown around my neck. A group of support watching, not understanding the miracle and forgiveness in the death. We are together but alone.

I turn to go, the scene too violent and heavy, the pain to vivid to bear. Aren't some things just so? But it is too late; his eyes they haunt and burn me. I can't turn back; every ounce of my strength given to my knees and my blood, every other ounce to biting down on my lip, concentrating on something other than his pain.

He whispers to me; a light surrounds me in the chaos and the darkness.

"No matter where you go, I will always be with you."

Creator's Note: The song is by Dierks Bentley and I own nothing. Seriously, not even responsible for the dream. Although I'm glad I had it.