The Little Tree
A tree stands alone in the forest
Nurtured solely by the silvery light of
The Goddess Selene.
Her beams bathe the tree with comfort--
Comfort the little tree receives
From no other source.
A wise poet once said,
"I have been well-acquainted with the night."
The meaning of this the tree knows quite well
For though the dark holds sounds of life
None approach closely enough to touch.
And so, the tree stands its watch alone
Surrounded by the thick and impenetrable silence
Even the crickets are still in the depths of the
Forest where she stands.
Why is she shun?
Why is she missed by the sun?
Can it be that she is too unsightly?
Or do her moon-fed branches repel all love?
It seems she will never know.
Yet, the little tree stands tall
Praising all she sees with quiet joy and gentle awe.
Bitterness the tree also knows
But it is buried, waiting to be purged and cleansed
By a breathless and unrestrained love.
She pours her soul out to the surrounding forest
Hoping the waves of love will be felt in the darkness.
Winds blow a path clear to the sky.
Suddenly the tree is bathed in a brilliance never before felt
Her leaves tingle with unaccustomed warmth.
The tree smiles as the flaming chariot flies above her patch of forest
Blazing a fiery trail.
Waves of love lap over the little tree.
She grows, her branches filling out with verdant foliage
Her joy bursts forth and bright flowers adorn her limbs.
Birds flock to her branch, singing merrily.
The tree knows her life is complete,
And if she is at that moment struck down
She could go willingly into that long sleep
For she has been fulfilled
Giving life, love, succor and shelter to others
Serving her purpose on God's green Earth
Bearing her fruit and feeding the young.
Nighttime falls but the tree is not alone.
Beside her, inside her, around her are her new companions.
Silvery light pours down but it is a welcome precursor to the light.
For always will the little tree know happiness
And never again stand
As a solitary
Monument
To grief.
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