Fractured foundations, disorderly vines
they dismissed the new, tender leaf;
gentle, fragile, needing nourishment-
the tiny sprout silently grieved.
Indolent, ignorance normal
the trunk provided no cover;
her family branches protruded-
barren, dark from the others.
Perplexed by the neighbors who care for their own
they help, support and uplift;
their tenders surrounded by healthy branches-
not one is left adrift.
But in her tree…
The roots were shallow, refusing to dig deep
carving their sharp edges disguise;
complaining all others had easier-
but that was merely a lie.
Full, healthy branches didn’t receive more rain
nor brighter sun;
they forged steady through storms-
protecting their young.
No guides or older wise
the seedling kept striving;
decided effort producing fruit-
the leaf ultimately thriving.
Distance from brokenness
took some time;
persistent, tenacious
the higher she climbed.
Vibrantly rising, eyes on the Son
she seeded her own new tree;
devoted through decades, never a waver-
her little sprouts danced free.
A Tale in the Trees was not originally written as a formal poem. But, after several educational comments from attentive and helpful readers, I’m updating this section of the post to list it as a free verse poem! I’m dabbling in poetry, and these words came to me while walking through the park. The groundskeepers were doing some tree work, leaving several remnants that sparked these thoughts.
Wishing you a wonderful, first full-week of August ahead!
Poem published at Spillwords: Rollerblading Behind a Triplet Stroller
Tales from a Mid-Lifer 
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