All there is, is a tree,
Standing in a raging storm.
Unable to move,
Yet,
It stands tall,
As the clouds
Stain its eyes with undying fear.
.
The wind, rustling,
Shakes its sanity,
And slowly, its bark
Starts
To wear away,
But its roots
Run deep.
Free n' free flowing.
.
Through Love and Hateful Ways
Light will lead its doubtful gaze.
Though it may fall sometimes,
There's always a part
That's rising.
Though it can't forget
The Past that got it where it stands.
So, it won't regret.
.
Once again, it escapes,
To a place of wonder,
Where the Earth mixes
With the breathing
Beyond
Calling to see
Calling to it.
.
But before it could see,
Reality pulls the leaves.
What's it supposed to do here?
What's the point of coming back?
To a reality
That only knows
How to move with
What's in front of
it.
.
Through Love and Hateful ways,
Light will lead our doubtful gaze.
Though we may fall sometimes,
There's always a part that's raised.
Though we can't forget
The Past that got us where we stand,
.
"So, I won't regret."
About the Creator
Rachael Anra
Hi, my name is Racahel. I'm an Indigenous writer from Arizona who loves poetry, horror, soft fantasys, and biographies. Currently, I am renewing my love for writing by driving back into it!
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Comments (2)
I liked the metaphor of deep root helping weather storms. It can be applied to relations.
" it's bark start to wear away but it's root runs deep.." bless me.