A Poison Tree By William Blake

I was angry with my friend;
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears:
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night.
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine.

And into my garden stole,
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see;
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

Submitted by Elizabeth Todd

Consider from www.litcharts.com: “‘A Poison Tree’ ultimately makes a powerful argument in favor of opening up and trusting in the human capacity for empathy and understanding. The alternative, the poem argues, is far more dangerous.”

For further reflection, today we’re reading John 12:20-36 in our community lenten reader.