The scattered tree's remains
frame the path from whence it came,
dampened in the warm, evening rain,
guiding the lonesome to self-blame.
Desperately, it's pleading commences
yearning hopelessly for soul sustenance.
It finds solace in expressing intensely,
and all those near fear it's immensity.
It's earthen skin moans,
bears cracks in it's bones,
weary cries gone silent,
but it's strength overgrown.
In it's roots it takes hold
to reconcile what it's forsaking,
endeavor painstaking, uncontrolled,
for true giving is absent of retaking.
Dulled are it's eyes
where they once had glow,
pathetic manifestations unfold
where it's reflection once resided.
And smoke swirls in the cavity
where the flames once warmed,
replaced by fiery, stinging swarms
creating turmoil in it's 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,
it's inner storm seems to subside.
The thunder rolls to the horizon,
and the rain lifts to gentle patters,
the mangled, tattered tree has wizened,
what once ravaged no longer matters.
Peace within and peace without,
forgiveness given, boundless grace.
It's 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.
