Torn

All is not well tonight,
The wind thrashes violently
Stirring unrest all about
Displacing things from their proper place
Breaking branches off from their proper tree.
The tree,
Like a disheartened soul,
Has lost a part of them,
And is helpless but to watch the branch tumble away with the strong gusts

Branches stay at one with the tree in good times
Or even a mild storm,
But a strong wind may break the strong branch
And send it miles and miles away
Without notice
The tree cannot do a thing,
For it is grounded by its roots
And the branch is granted only the wind’s mercy

True
A tree has and will have many branches
With many sizes, shapes and functions
But this one was more of a limb than a branch,
It was very vital and special to the little tree.
It always reached towards the sun because it wanted the best for the little tree.
It shaded the little tree
when the sun was too bright.
It grew freely but never took over the tree,
But loving and flattering the tree, keeping it happy with its presence.

The tree loved it so
She cared for it
And fed it with her sweet gentleness

The branch and the tree do all possible to hold on
As the wind comes to do its deed
But the branch must depart.
The wind is too strong here.
It rips out that limb.
Taking with it the tree’s heart.
The tree is now naked and gutted.
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© Nov 2001 ~Ilana Cofield~