I am somewhat hesitant to post this as I am afraid that it will be ripped apart. But, I guess I have to suck it up if I am going to ever get published.
Thanks to my poetry class this semester for the feedback. Special thanks to Laura, who sugested the the idea of making this a shape poem.



This poem is my property, so no stealing.

Lesson from a Tree

The dark green buds can be seen on every limb and every limb’s limb.
In the early spring they are hard and callous-like, the result of the winter’s labor.
Hard earned new life beginning where its predecessor died only twelve months ago.
Suddenly, April arrives, breading lilacs and green leaves out of the buds once so small.
Green leaves last until September then turn brilliant shades of red and brown and gold
As they slowly die and fall away to carpet the ground until the first snow.
This has happened before and will happen again.
But the tree remains here.
It is not moved by weather.
When the snow falls,
When the winds blow,
It just stands where
Its life began.
Quiet and still.
A model of patience,
An image of stability,
A symbol of groundedness.
Its roots are deep in the past. It feeds from the lives of former generations.
Even if transplanted it must be sustained by what its
Ancestors leave behind;
It survives on
Tradition.