Grace

When I used to live in the country

There was a huge forest

It was full of trees

They were tall, wide, small, and thin

They were all trees

But to me

They were people.

 

One day when I walked through

The forest with my cousin

We came upon a tree that sparkled

With shiny red leaves

Its branches were drooped

And the leaves had started to fall

 

My cousin pulled at the branches

That reached to the ground

She ripped apart leaves

And tore bark off the trunk

 

When I saw how cruel

She was to this tree

Separated from the others

But so vibrant

And sad, I told her to stop

And she didn’t

 

She said,

“Others have done worse to trees

What’s the difference with this one?”

 

A few years later, I went back

To the forest where I’d seen the tree.

I walked through the familiar trails

I greeted the trees as old friends

Friends who had protected me

 

When I got to the place

So familiar, where my favorite tree

Had been

I was surprised at what I saw

 

The once beautiful leaves

Were brown, the shine had rotted away

The thick trunk

Had been struck by lightening

No longer were the drooping branches

Hanging, they had fallen off.

 

I fell to the ground in tears

My heart broke

That it had been destroyed

Not by people, but by nature

 

As I sat on the ground

Sad, because I had lost

Something so important to me

I noticed a small, green leaf

 

It was buried under the debris

Of the ruined tree

The lively green, was a sharp contrast

To the dead monument before me

 

In that moment I realized

Nature is not the destroyer

It is balance

 

Reviews

[Desert Dreamer]

Beautiful story of a tree..trees are like people, each one unique and special...I like your ending the best,
"In that moment I realized
Nature is not the destroyer
It is balance"
Thank you for sharing this well written poem.