Crystals

Like a mighty oak,
growing tall, sure and strong
hands clasped, lifted high
An axe thrust
meant for the core
but deflected.
Sap pouring out,
oozing through the seams,
soaking through the bark.
Sunshine--
freezing the sap in its tracks.
Crystals of infinite wonder,
honeyed gold,
frozen in time.
The oak still growing.
Ever shooting upward.
Ever reaching up.
Ever stretching.
For God.