Pruning Me
My life spreads out its tangled limbs
In inches then in miles.
And days of laughter or of hurt
Grab tears between the smiles.
A lopped off limb refreshes mind
Of severed friendships past,
Of loved-ones lost forever--
But still in memory's grasp.
~o0o~
The gnarled and broken branches
Have weathered many gales.
In twisted arms, the tempests
Have written anguished tales.
But as the years fly swiftly,
My character is struck.
Of a purpose, every knotty scar
Had naught to do with luck.
~o0o~
Vain wishes of a younger me,
Decisions blithely made,
Wrought many a tortured footpath,
And OH! The toll I've paid!
Yet when I search each season
With its shadows and its pain,
The Hand with a higher purpose
Has always bought me gain.
~o0o~
And as I yield to His pruning knife,
Anxiety's burden leaves.
I've found a harvest of riches
When I worry on my knees.
Music: After All
Author's Notes/Comments:
Just something I've learned the hard way...
Jessica:
Nice clear imagery, good logical progression, accessible to everyreader. I particularly enjoyed the metaphor of the tree which you carried so cleverly through the whole poem.
The only thing I might change is to add a break here and then there to help the reader rest his eyes, absorb the message and imagery, then catch his breath and glide to your conclusion.
Thanks for entertaining me,
Ken
My Secret River