She stood, stately and strong—
A tree, gleaming with golden leaves,
Abiding along the stream,
With a deep sense of joy,
As the aureate branches
Reached out in purpose and meaning.
Her twigs danced in the sun,
And the birds nested
As children laughed
And played in the grass
Beneath her boughs.
She could be you,
Or me,
Or any wounded soul,
Who finds meaning in steadfast love.
We lie in the grass
Gazing through the shimmering branches
To the turquoise sky,
And relish the full, deep sense of connectedness
With those who are honest and true.
