mirrored by a tree.

twisted bark and carved arches

life has etched it's mark on me

my roots run deep and so do my cracks

I'm standing tall, but scared I'll fall.

my shadow is a giver, my soul-a taker

I reap from the ground

only to have my fruit ripped from me.

I reach for the heights,

and must contend with nature's laws,

time, season and gravity.

strangers lean on me,

they stop to catch their breath

then move on as they please...

occasionally they'll nest for a while

if the weather so conspires

till autumn comes like clockwork

sending them off in pursuit of more

just as my leaves start to fall

leaving me out there, a lonely bared soul.

i see the smoke from fires

fueled by my brothers

and wonder what fate awaits me,

will i burn or will i rot,

will be carved into something fancy

be set on a pedestal to be shown off

polished and cherished

for the rest of my life

or maybe I'll always be simply a tree

rooted to a spot but altogether free

to embrace my constant friend -the wind,

and longingly wait for spring.