The tree remains strong in the distance,
Watch, as its branches dance with the wind.
But if you come close, you’ll find that its existence
Is extremely flawed and its many twigs, skinned.
From afar, this tree has about it some beauty, some magic,
But alas, you’ll find, the truth is more cynical, more tragic.
The little branches hang onto the broken tree,
Looking up to the bigger limbs, that are perched just above.
They turn to them for guidance, strength, and security,
A chance to be showered with nourishment and love.
However, years of growing apart cause a wedge between the limbs,
Leaving the little ones in a world of confusion, doubts, and an atmosphere; grim.
The young birds usually sheltered away into the bark,
Are left in the open, in the huge gap, as the limbs grow apart.
You can hear their nervous squeaking, as dusk turns to dark,
They express their terror, insecurities, and fear; a song from the heart.
The bough, the big branch, the head of the family tree,
Poisoned by the growing hatred, falls to the ground; from this terrible life, he is now free.
But look! All hope is not lost! The creeper begins its way, to see the family together again,
It twines around the limbs and bridges the gap between the branches. Love will soon return. Amen!