Saturday, August 2, 2008

A Poem


A little tree stands alone in the forest.
I am not like the other trees he says.
They are all close together but I am alone.

Maybe as I grow I can spread out my branches.
Then I can join in with the other trees.
He grows, but his branches never quite reach the others.
He is different, he is still alone.

Because the little tree is alone, with less covering than the others
The storms wear on him more.
He must bear the full force of life’s storms, alone.
The other trees encourage him some but over time his branches begin to hang low.

I am in the forest but I am alone.
There is no hope for me he says.
I have tried everything but I cannot get close to the other trees.
Why must I be so different he says? His branches wither, his leaves hang low.

Why was I planted here if I was just meant to stand here alone?
Who could be so cruel as to put me here so alone & without purpose?
Maybe if I wither some more the one who planted & grew me will chop me down
Then I will suffer no more.
He gave up .

Here He comes.
I can feel Him doing something to me? What is that?
I can feel something changing. I feel different. What is happening?
What is He doing to me?
I can hear the children’s laughter. What is happening?

Then the tree hears the one who planted & grew him say to the little children.
You see children, we planted a tree apart from the others for a purpose. This tree will bring you joy & laughter for many years & then it will be here for your children. For generations children will gather here to play & find joy & make wonderful memories.

The tree could feel the little children climbing him & he was glad. He could hear them talking about a tree house & a tire swing. He did not know exactly what those things were except he knew they had become a part of him. From that day on he was never alone again.

The tree finally knew his purpose.
He was special. He was loved. He brought joy & laughter to the children.
Then the tree was glad that the one who planted & grew him had made him special.
He knew now that his time alone was not to make him suffer, but to make him special.
It was a time of preparation to make him ready for the purposes of the one who planted & grew him.

And the tree was glad and knew joy and laughter for all of his days.

What do you think?

No comments: