These trees. A forest surrounds me. I am accustomed to growth. Striving. Nurturing.
I accept the boughs above me. There is comfort in the shade. Relief. Passiveness. Peace.
I’ve seen many seasons. The heat of summer. Foliage of Autumn. But now, it’s Winter.
I’m thankful for deep roots reaching further underground. Roots of strength. Roots that last.
Right now, I’m bearing all, touched by others on my journey.
It’s my place where I again look forward to the Spring of new life. Regeneration,
replenishing rain, sunshine- storms and clearings. This poem is just a branch.
By: Lucia Haase