The Tree by Me (7 of 10)

Almost a year after I wrote this poem I can still vividly remember this specific walk around our neighborhood park. I’ve walked or run Wash Park well over 100 times but on this particular day, I was awestruck with the trees. I stopped and these words came out. It’s been nearly a year since I wrote this (written June 2019).

The Tree by Mike McFadden

I do not ask you to grow

I do not question your leaves

I don’t ridicule your limbs.

The patterns of bark 

Are uniquely yours.

Your roots go deep, and 

Without force or direction 

Leaves come and go.

The wind blows

The rain comes

The sun finds its way to you

And you do not move

You do not strive for fast growth

You do not try to slow down.

Life happens

Seasons pass

Seasons go

Yet you are not startled 

And maybe a massive 

storm will uproot you

Or a lightning bolt 

will destroy you

Or a tiny bug will infect you.

But you do not worry 

You do not fret

You do not worry. 

You do not fret. 

You remain 

Planted

Rooted

Growing

At your pace

At your perfect pace.