The Weeping Tree

 
 

A mind full of visions, never to be
Clinging to illusions one can only dream
While held in the arms of the weeping tree
Brought to life in harsh reality, on an early April morn
A child born for battles, as both feet hit the ground
Cradling embraces -- nowhere to be found
Cautiously watching -- one's father on himself devour
The child feels all alone

Out of nowhere a chance for life appears
Making right -- other's wrongs
A strong hand reaches out, and brushes away
the descending tears, he carries the burdens
too heavy for only one to endure
A strong heart bursts -- unable to compensate
as he struggles to do the job of two
The child is left alone

Comfort is found, beneath the limbs of the tree
A haven; the child's hidden hide away
Nature's breath -- softly whispers persuasions
Feathery limbs reach down, wrapping around
the empty child, a sliver of the moon looks down
and smiles -- watching over the event below
A craved embrace -- the child never knew
Asleep at last -- cradled in the heart of the weeping tree

Joy Elaine -- December 12, 2002

 

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