The Sun & The Trees

My name is Micaela Jones.

I am nothing but skin, blood and bones,

But that’s what the world tells me.

Deep within myself, I am like a tree

That sprouts with leaves of original beauty

And branches of love, courage, intelligence and more beauty.

I also sprout with twigs of peace & gentleness.

I send these twigs out to clean up this world’s mess

With a hope that a kind soul receives & uses them wisely.

Before I was a lovely tree, I had been given twigs

But not like the ones that I sent out.

Other trees have let out twigs that had another duty:

They had missions to knock me and other trees of my own kind down.

I couldn’t grow any further without sending twigs about

Doing acts of harmony. And that’s what happened. Frown,

I did. Too broken to continue, I was.

One day, a wet drop fell on one of my branches.

Another followed, then another. Many more followed.

It took no longer than five minutes for water to fill the inches.

Then it filled the feet. My heart was also filled, so it’s no longer hollowed.

To my surprise, the flood floated away the rotten twigs.

But, the good ones were not. The rotten was forgotten.

The rain stopped and the water went down.

Other trees were found and we became more than a town.

Some of the bad trees were too found, but they renewed.

And they are no now longer rude.

At least not for a bit. After the rain,

The sun broke through the clouds and we are now free of pain.

We still exhibit some symptoms of pain; however,

We have the glowing circle to look up to forever.

With the great star’s shining rays, we too shine.

We have our own glows and there’s no line,

Except the one between the light & the shadows.

We let our lights glow everywhere, even the deepest, farthest meadows.

The minute our sun shines to other trees & forests, the minute they too find the Great Sun.