Saturday, January 31, 2009

My mother's poem

My mother’s tree


My mother is like an old oak tree
Though storms battle against her,
She stands.
Her branches are unending
They stretch to the pacific,
They touch me.
Her bark is rough and ragged
but that’s only on the outside,
She brings warmth.
Her trunk is like a castle
that gathers up the family,
She is home.
Her roots are deeply planted
To hold against the winds,
She is the foundation.
Though she has a knot or two
They only show her beauty,
She is my reflection.
She stands,
She stretches,
She touches,
She warms,
She gathers,
She holds,
And she is me, and I am her
We are the family tree.

1 comment:

Sue said...

Thanks, you are truly loved !!!!!