Now is a tree

Now is a tree,

a place that is made of history.

Feel with your fingers

for lines etched in the bark,

the future is there

stretching through the dark. 

Maybe this map

we’ve drawn for ourselves

has become misleading,

crafted in a past

so different that

it’s become demeaning.

This world 

that is within us, 

the one that

is the epitome 

of our dreams,

it is vibrant. 

All that is fading

lives on in our words,

in our hopes,

in our faith of it thriving.

Now is a tree,

but the future

could be a forest.

These hopes, we can plant them,

our ideas, the seeds

in this garden 

we must weed them.

For all that we forget,

we re-create.

For all that we’ve left,

we remember. 

For all of us, we walk. 

Even if the horizon, 

is still a line,

concealed by the dark.