Tree

there’s a tree on that hill, right there, can’t you see?
it’s there on its own, I know you’ll agree.
its limbs are all wilted; its leaves are so quiet,
no one’s ever known that tree to make any riot.

in light it stays still,
not a twitch, not a chill.
its droop is there so it can hide,
poor trees sadness, you know it’s cried.

the old trees story is cracked in the earth
a cheerless tale at best, but not since its birth.
this tree lost its love in fires cruel wrath,
and now all it has is dry earth and a path.

this day though, it’s different
it’s raining, it’s windy, and it’s got a new scent.
the tree holds its own, won’t fall over today
that tree is still strong, though sad and all gray.

long after the storm, the rain, and the smell
the tree looked down and gave out a yell
for beside the tree, not far from its roots
a new tree was budding, sweet smelling like fruits.

“love!” the tree cried, its happiness swelling,
“you cannot know how much I’ve missed your sweet telling!”

The trees lifted its limbs, reached up to the sky
took in a huge breath, a great backwards sigh,
and began to sing in a healthy trees way,
no sadness, no more, to keep it at bay. 

~Hayley Bodmer