Tree of Life

TREE OF LIFE

Deep in the darkest, dampest forest,
You are the tree that waits to shelter me,
The tree that has spread its branches protectively out over the forest floor,
That has prepared a bed of soft needles for me to lay my head down
When I am sad and scared.
You are the tree that stands tall and strong
But ready to sacrifice any part of itself—
A branch, some needles—to light my fire of life, to warm me, inside and out.
You are the tree with the sweetest fruit, the truest grain,
A tree I could make a home with, a tree I could feed on spiritually,
A tree I can admire for its incredible physical beauty
And stroke gently for its softness,
A tree whose limbs would sigh out in delight as it felt my gentle hand.
You are the tree who, when the wind comes sighing through the boughs,
Sings the loveliest music when you put your branches together,
Music that draws the tears from my eyes, music that lures me from afar.
In my forest of life, I’m not certain how I have survived
Before you, not knowing your security, not knowing your song.
The heartwood is the center of the tree,
But that heartwood in you is visible through places,
Not where you are weak, but where you are strong.
It shines with a glowing light, as if the angels
Have already lit a fire inside you, and for centuries it has been waiting
To light my way, to warm me, to call me home.