The Black Maple

just for the record

it's become evident to me....

after we get past the phantom resentments and

those prickly demons that I don't understand.....

I'm still in love with you!

walking out the drive
feeling worn and tired
the world’s weight closes in
steamrolling out the creases
of a dirty, crumpled soul
 
looking down I see
a small black maple tree
saved by grace, miraculously
finally strong enough
to bare the weight
of delicate limbs
and trophied leaves
 
I remember when we planted it
picked a suitable spot
perfect, or so we thought
nurturing and admiring
would surely be enough
 
but we didn't know the soil
misjudged the windy grudges
and the elements of antipathy
finally snapped it
at the roots….
given up for dead
 
we mowed it over several times
never noticing the sprouts arise
from the brownness that disguises
a not yet barren source
 
when we were humbled to our knees
we found her struggling in the breeze
and watered her with patience
collected from the night’s last storm
 
she’s reaching for the sky again
this time with the advantage of
an experienced foundation
only god can do the rest

Runnells, Iowa '09