The Tree

His arms reach out in all directions,
Kids climbing,  jumping, playing,
Rope swings and tire swings
Boy oh boy,
This tree has it all.

He  stands high and mighty
Above all the rest—a skyscraper,
With leaves and animals galore;
This oak is alive and well.

This baby is known by many names:
A home, a refuge,
A playground by some,
A friend, or just art.

Multitalented .

He dances in the wind,
Plays in the rain,
Soaks up the rays
Day after day
Just having a good time living the good life
In freedom

Seasons come and seasons go,
And as the years pass by
This hoss just takes it in stride.

But this year is different than the rest.

The biting winter comes,
And gosh dangit it’s cold

The ice entraps his arms,
And the snow adds insult to injury.
What was once a handsome oak,
Is now a weeping willow,
Hunched over,
Sulking,
Dying.

He begins to crack under the pressure
One limb,
Two limbs,
Three limbs,
Four.
His arms violently snap
And fall lifelessly to the ground below.

This broken, forlorn life
Tries to remain optimistic
Things will be better in the spring
Right?

The ice begins to melt
And his wounds are exposed.
The sun shines,
But still
The tree is naked, broken, bruised, used.

He tries to dance in the wind
Play in the rain,
Soak up the rays,
But he can’t;
It hurts too much
He’s reminded of the better days,
When he was stronger.

The spring, summer, fall, and winter come
But still
No leaves,
No animals,
No rope swings or tire swings,
No kids.
They’ve moved on
To bigger and better things

People say he’ll live again,
But when?

Two years pass,
And they’re all still wrong.

They contemplate cutting him down,
Put him out of his misery,
But no.

They have faith he will live.
He has faith he will live
They believe in him,
Which allows him believe in himself.

His arms are still cracked,
Still void of any life,
But he’s optimistic again,
And that’s good enough for now.

Patience keeps one sane.

He listens and waits,
And for the first time,
He watches life happen
All around him,
When alas!
A leaf.

A leaf pokes his little green head
Out of one of his limbs.
Flying solo.

But wait, what’s this?
There’s another,
And another,
And another!

He’s coming back to life,
He can feel it in his roots,
And everyone around him takes notice.

Within months he’s back and running,
Strong as ever,
Happy as can be,
Living free again.

His arms reach out in all directions,
Kids climbing,  jumping, playing,
Rope swings and tire swings
Boy oh boy,
This tree has it all.



2 thoughts on “The Tree

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