Nestled within the plains of the Midwest,
Isolated and alone,
Stands a wholesome oak tree.
Her dark, chestnut body hemmed in by the mucky acorns,
Those of which were shed out of sorrow.
Though raised by the squalid ground she grows,
She remains sincere and frank.
Her thin, weathered arms sprout from her robust body,
Reaching for a warm embrace from miles of vacancy,
She does not fear the loneliness: she has been there.
The emerald and citrine leaves have become withered and worn,
She mustn’t hold onto them: she is not her past.
With an agility unbeknownst to her,
She sheds her leaves,
Allowing them to accompany all that she has lost.
The bleak acorns and tattered leaves join each other,
Bestowing old stories of the Oak Tree,
They chuckle and cheer,
Craning as they spot the new leaves she has grown.
Though she is surrounded by her past and isolation,
The Oak Tree stands tall and strong,
For our past is not meant to haunt us, but to usher along the way.
Posted in response to the challenge Hope & Resilience.
Comments
The message behind this, that our past does not make us who we are, is felt so brightly and clearly in your words and almost sings, even, and with such cheer. Your personification of the tree and all its attending parts -- leaves, acorns, branches -- serves the overall tone of the piece well.
Thank you! This is so thoughtful :)
Log in or register to post comments.