Being a curious soul who has often wandered down varying paths and in multiple directions, often at the very same time, I am delighted by the wayward nature of tree branches. They give me hope, as they fork and splay and traverse various trajectories, always staying rooted in the glory of the trunk, the core, the life force of their being.
Oddly enough, I found an old poem, a short one, that is more about tree rings than branches but the tree imagery is somehow relevant here. See if you agree...
I wear a stack of ringsaround my finger
Each with its own story
of who I used to be
the many lives I've lived
the ages of this gnarled soul
roots twisted between greens
sprouting through seasons
dying each new death
A grand victory of survival.
©2012 DOSThe excerpts of all of the poems presented in this blog are copyright protected, as each and every poem has been copyrighted. For a complete copy of any poem, feel free to email your request to: firstname.lastname@example.org.