nuther poem

Each one has a story,
A story of great possibilities.
A happy story,
With a great beginning.
Or a sad story,
With a great ending.

Each tree we pass,
Calls out for us.
Wanting it's story to be heard.

That tree out in the distance,
Lonely and afraid.
Bent and twisted,
From each passing days' unwanted torture.
The harsh winds,
That push and pull.
The evil heat,
That burns and dulls.
But the occasional sweet creature,
Yearning for shelter and life.
Oh this poor tormented tree,
Was able to see the beautiful miracle,
Of life at bay.

That tree in a yard,
Beautiful and perfect as can be.
Watched over,
By loving humans.
Watered and trimmed,
Treated to the sweet company,
Of a growing family.
A tree so loved and adored.
Such a happy life.
Till the day,
Those humans leave.
A tree so loved and adored,
So suddenly abandoned,
Without a second thought.
Left all by itself,
So much like that lonely tree
Out in the distance.

What about those trees you pass,
Everyday?
Those old, brittle, fragile, dying ones.
They reach out for you,
Everyday.
Yearning for life,
For love.
Reaching,
With their twisted mangled fingers.
Reaching for anything to hold,
One last time.