Poetry – Page 20 – Picking Up Roots

Trees

I am the willow
standing tall
and weeping
for the hurt
of this moment,
and those futures
never to come;

there is oak
inside me,
hard and resilient,
it is how I will get through;

evergreen
your memory
carried close to me
will live on

Healing

we are all part
of something greater
than ourselves;

the best of us
look out
when they need to heal
within

Perfect

for a moment
walking a trodden trail
through aged pines
I felt as one
with the world,

the breeze caressed my cheek,
it was perfect