The tree in the fog
Cannot see the world it knows
Except when it remembers
The hills, the forests, the sky,
And the sun.

The tree in the storm
Cannot hear the world it knows
Beyond the wind’s roar,
The lightnings’ flash,
And raindrops’ splat
Against the ground.

The tree in the deep winter
Cannot feel the world it knows
When snow and frosty cold
Numb its bark.

The tree always knows
That it is a tree;
Its roots growing
Deep into the ground,
Its branches growing
Far up into the sky
As it turns
Sunlight and soil
Into food
So that it may endure
Fog, storm, and winter
When they come to visit.

Some days,
I am like that tree
When I am being visited
By such forces
And must remind myself
To remain deeply grounded
While also allowing myself
To keeping growing
Toward the sky.

 
© copyright 2016 John David Higham