always reaching for the sky

with everything that's happened

i hold this still to be true

i am like a tree

steady and strong

vulnerable and sad in the winter

my imperfections exposed

i drink too much coffee

i drink too much wine

i shiver and shake and let the wind push me around

and when the sun comes out

there's a strength that shines down on me

so that i can bloom and give and thrive

and you would never know the pain i've suffered

even if you chop me down

every bit of me has life and purpose

you can use me to mold and create

i will not cry, i will not mourn my own demise

for i have not yet met any such thing

i am like the house the tree created

unwavering, immobile but without roots

overflowing with memory

overwhelmed with nostalgia

anyone under my roof has become my brother

everyone who sits at my table is my mother

the world grows and crumbles around me

and i slowly decay in my own time

silently strong, i let them decorate me

they carry my comfort as their own

and i smile as they use me to the bone

i am like the operating table

i am like the flower that opens to the moonlight

i am like the paper upon which they document their dreams

all of these things provide strength through the darkness

i cannot falter

Request permission to use this poem