The tree of life
is one often representing as
prosperity and happiness of a knotted tree with
endless branches through wisdom grown and everything in between
But lest we forget—or overlook—the windblown branches that spiraled away
In all days it is not always tender leaves but weathered bark;
the lasting mark of life’s pain in scars
of physical and emotional convey
to nurture in kind will show our care amidst the hard sides—bare.
The twisting branch is the only relay of the hidden time of confusion past
In what is almost another life—you wouldn’t recognize the sapling then.
But perhaps what is best is never giving up
—when the roots of the young could not hold its head up
There became a helpful wood—a sister—
steadily staked in the ground to prop up its spirit
—in physical strength and mental challenge.