Untitled
Sprouted in soil,
not rich nor poor
surprisingly the seedling grows under
the toughest conditions.
Nature is false, though one may not believe-
the burning in the blistering summer,
the drowning in the spring
the Identity ripped away in the fall
and the double edge of winter,
beautiful and bitter.
Only time has shown appreciation
towards the seedling, giving it
Knowledge,
on a daily basis, now a sapling
strength and wisdom acquired
each new year; something gained
nothing lost
But nature furious at time's progression-
takes the rage out on the sapling;
a branch broken
Time heals this injury
but more are sure to follow as the anger rises,
so does the intensity of these wounds
later a storm progresses
and lightning strikes
the sapling suffers at the rage of nature.
A sole protector stands Alone
guarding the Treasure,
as old and beaten,
Alone, against the world-
Always fighting,
refusing any help, this is Her fight.
heartwood exposed
to nature's elements and insects
that attack the vulnerable possession.
Another joins the fight-
waving away objections
bringing tools to heal,
helping to guard
Giving-in
accepting help-
now two brave the world,
burdens shared, protection from harm,
a sacred Treasure.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment