The shattered tree's remains
now frame the path from which it came,
dampened in the warm, evening rain,
guiding the lonesome to self-blame.
Desperately, its pleading begins,
hopelessly yearning for soul sustenance.
It finds solace in expressing its pain,
and all those near fear its immense strain.
Its earthen skin groans,
bearing cracks in its bones,
weary cries now silent,
yet its strength has overgrown.
In its roots, it takes hold
to reconcile what it’s forsaking,
an effort painful, uncontrolled,
as it gives what it can't be retaking.
Its eyes are now dulled
where they once had a glow,
pathetic reflections unfold
in the place of its soul.
And smoke swirls in the cavity
where the flames once warmed,
replaced by fiery, stinging swarms,
creating turmoil in its depravity.
Wounds young and sweltry,
the blood flow sustains,
no vestige of remedy,
enduring the pain.
Like a mangled, broken ship at sea
into terrorizing waves of atrophy,
embracing water, drowning,
sinking, it helplessly flounders.
Never ceasing,
waves increasing
breath releasing,
mind's eye teasing.
Waters rise,
anticipating,
whispered cries,
suffocating,
painfully asphyxiating...
It lets go, floats towards the coursing,
waving, crashing surface,
aching for air.
Choppy waters, throwing,
forcing to and fro,
it fiercely presses on
and hears the thunder.
Lightning cracks through air and sky,
the bright light lingers in its eyes,
the thunder mutes all other sounds,
its inner storm seems to subside.
The thunder rolls to the horizon,
and the rain lifts to gentle patters,
the mangled, tattered tree has softened,
what once ravaged no longer matters.
Peace within and peace without,
forgiveness given, boundless grace.
Its world is light and free again,
though it knows there's more it has to face.
For now, a lightness' been endowed,
it dances with joy and loves out loud.
It knows the storms will always come,
but through them all, who it'll become
is worth the ravaged, aching pain,
and comes out stronger, wiser, and changed.