These trees. A forest surrounds me. I am accustomed to growth. Striving. Nurturing.
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I accept the boughs above me. There is comfort in the shade. Relief. Passiveness. Peace.
I’ve seen many seasons. The heat of summer. Foliage of Autumn. But now, it’s Winter.
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I’m thankful for deep roots reaching further underground. Roots of strength. Roots that last.
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Right now, I’m bearing all, touched by others on my journey.
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It’s my place where I again look forward to the Spring of new life. Regeneration,
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replenishing rain, sunshine- storms and clearings. This poem is just a branch.
By: Lucia Haase
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