Best Introspectiontree Poems
I came as an unaffected statue
Halloween depiction depicting everything
vaguely-leaving margins for misinterpretations
like hieroglyphics deciphered by illiterates
scawling crayon scratch book reports
Walk in these shoes
Feel the pavement scrape through openings worn through souls
and feel the contours of the Earth ravaging
~merciless~
Take the reigns of this chariot
rambling around on undiscernable tracks often
backwards-hobbling humbly
numbly picking up pieces from a patchwork jigsaw
picture possesing voids in the most beautiful places
Climb this tree and know the shaky footfall limbs
sprawl like weeping willow tendrils on my fathers branch
bare and abandoned like locusts came, fed, and fled
watch the forest flourish and realize
this tree is flawed yet resilient
rooted in the strength of adversity
Stethoscope this heart and enjoy the offbeat beat
thumping in uneven peak and valley arrythmia
loving deeply and loved shallow, coldly
berating every executioner who killed
my adoration quotient with dull unfeeling axes
Leaving tides turned, churning me to hurt
Vengefully....Senselessly
Leaving no paths passing me passively
~~passion is my blessing and curse
Focusing on that river that supplies nourishment
Clear as a crystal, flowing from the throne of God
In the mist of it is The Tree of Life that bears
Twelve manner of fruit, yielding every month
The leaves of that Tree are for the healing
That river, beautiful, crystal clear is the source
(Based on Revelation 22:1-2) (This was inspired by Brian Strand's .)
If love was all it took to succeed
I woud be red oak instead of weed
Committment, faithfulness feed
Still through every fiber to all in need
But we who walk the straight line
Are the devoured ones you'll find.
And each time left behind by one
I am sure about, my fragment grows
Less, a tree may grow in the sun
Or wither unless some water flows
Into the roots quiet, and deep
Where all my secrets there I keep.
This poem then is a fissure in the rock
The churning magma will grow
Hard again, and tree rings like a clock
Will tell but will not openly show
The years that make xylem wood
The tears that make the heart to brood.