At first, when Jesus made the blind man see,
That man thought people looked like walking trees.
Why trees? The Bible commentators bicker
Until by insight or perhaps by liquor
They suddenly catch the quirky point of view
Of someone to whom everything looks new.
But what of us? Aren’t we still partly blind?
When we see all, what peace will ease our minds
As we the trees find a Cross took our place
And what we see we now see face to face.