I am beneath a tree branch
It reaches outwards and its weather-worn bark sags to touch me
The dry cracks along the wood tell of its ageless progression
And every inch it grows, it grows upwards, away from its shadow
I am beneath the clouds that the tips of the branch point to
The shapeless forms that move with the wind
And as the wind blows past, it guides the branch to follow the clouds
And these clouds are beneath the sky which hold it
Carried against the chest of the Earth, like a new born infant
And coaxed along the surface, gentle is its path
I am beneath this sky, and I peer up to it
In search of the care it gives the clouds
In search of the hope they give the branch
In search of the will the shadow gives the branch
In search of my own path to be so simply held
Sad as the terminal strive for the next highest step
It is a guiding journey, and through the frustration it makes
It creates clarity, and it makes up a driving voice
And I am beneath this