My emotions like the Branches of a tree. Strongly attached to the core of my being, yet when a storm hits they seem to thrash in the wind. And on the occasion a branch will break off and crash to the ground leaving a slivered raged open hole.
My body feels worn and tired. My womb like a hollowed out hole in my trunk, inhabiting a small babe, creating the perfect nest safe from the cold winds and rage of the outside. My skin becoming calloused with time showing signs of wear. The carvings of my family and loved ones have been cut deep into my bark for all to see. From my head grows wisdom, like fruit, growing more abundant and sweet with years. As I move from the shade of my mothers covering, my hair like leaves grows more wild and untamed, covering my own children. The seeds of my fruit fall over them and take root. My unborn children, like the saplings who have died at my roots, leaving rich nutrients in my soil, helping me to grow stronger and taller with each passing day. My feet like roots remain firmly planted in the soil without sway. And my bark, my God. For without my bark I would be left standing alone, naked in the cold storm of life.
This is who I am. Who I have become. Time only aiding my journey through life. Reminding me that the scares and callouses only add to the beauty of the creation. And only speaks to the wonderment of the creator.
