Trees Of Life
I feel very much like a Sycamore tree;
enduring the winds of Autumn;
planted where God chose me to be;
most of my leaves have fallen.
Leaves of orange and brown; at my feet;
signs of progency yet to come;
where destiny and circumstance meet;
my roots won’t allow me to run.
I find myself anchored in solid ground;
wondering what my future will be;
destiny whispers, I’m heaven bound;
reality’s greatest mystery.
Several of my limbs lay in the grass;
broken by storms of circumstance;
hoping the coming winter won’t last;
Spring is my time for romance.
Reality is the forest of the trees of life;
symbolic of all civilization;
many of them felled by storms of strife;
pictures of life’s foundation.
The tree of life was life’s foundation;
created to live and then die;
unlimited trees make up the creation;
death is no reason to cry.
For the rivers of life shall always flow;
and the forests shall live; then die;
love was created to thrive and grow;
and love never says goodbye.
Monty 11/25/24. # 2,468