I am a tree
Strong yet still bowing
My leaves have yellowed
From all the years of shading
Protecting from the hail
And angry winds
Parts of me scattered
Returning to the earth
To soften the touch
As their feet whisked
Them away to the sun
I always sought even
On the darkest of days
Where even my shadow
Hid, fearing the truth
Which would one day
Uproot me and I would
Sway in all directions
Forgetting I was still worthy
And as the thunder roared
Reminding me, I was alive
And as the lightning helped me
Find my way, I became united
With the one I left behind.
I am a tree
strong
no longer bowing.
strong
no longer bowing.
The best creation of god is tree, it gives its every part to everyone and expects nothing in return. The epitome of sacrifice.
ReplyDeleteThere is so much to be said for being a tree....bowing or not bowing! Your poem has said so much.
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