Tree of Life

Arriving through a crown of red and veins,

Pink, alive.

They examine my skin, ‘so pale’ they say,

(a source of pride),

Outside a blanket of white November snow

Falls to welcome me home.

Each year the limbs stretch,

They grow long and wide,

From pink to beige - my skin,

My mind is different, full of shade;

Cerulean, canary, carmine,

But they cannot penetrate through

This armour of grey and yellow

My skin

The suit which they have put me in.

The roots which spawned me,

Wind around my trunk so tightly,

Waxes and wanes;

In waves, as I

Reach forward

It pulls tighter -

‘Come back to what you know’ it whispers,

Safeness in beige, in brown, caramel, vanilla,

Hide with us, don’t fight -

Nothing will come for you when we stay in night.

The trunk finally ceases to grow,

It’s frame now weathered with scars,

grows old, so -

I root

where I am standing.

Roots burrow firmly into the ground,

Through any cracks

With no attention, it still grows

Below and above

Roots then branches

Devoid of love, but then -

Appears buds, in Spring, Autumn and Winter,

Tightly closed and hiding it’s colours

From the tree from which it came.

Do not be afraid,

Even though wind and storms shake us,

Stay, stay, with me until you bloom

Or are blown away

By nature

I won’t swallow your petals in the same way

Mine were hidden inside,

Hidden with pride to keep another alive -

Though I remain rooted, my vision straight ahead

I hold the precious buds firm on my branches

I can feel you even if I cannot see you, number 1, 2 and 3

Blue, green and pink, maybe

Or kaleidoscopic!

Your brightness will illuminates my shade

Which won’t suffocate you in any way

So bloom, bloom, fly, fly

My roots will remain planted for you to come by

When needed

As I grow cold

The wispy snow set to return

Shards of ice settle on me

And begins to burn.