The Tree Of Life

The Tree Of Life

No fruit I picked was made of gold

no flame nor crown, no tales retold

just quiet branches holding air

and words I found already there

Peace sat low, where roots ran deep

Truth leaned out from shadows steep

Hope was higher, out of reach

so I let Love begin to teach

A dove watched still, no song, no sound

two angels walked the hallowed ground

not asking why, not naming how

they only stood, and felt the now

I touched a leaf, I named it mine

not for worship, not for sign

but for the way it held the light

not shouting loud, just being right

And every fruit, in time, will fall

some to none, and some to all

but while they wait, they softly shine

not his, not theirs, this branch is mine

Just there to see, just there to know

in steady hush, Marie will grow

My Dad always told me we each have a leaf on the tree of life. It tells our birth, our story and our death. When the leaf falls they angels who sit by this tree, they collect it off the ground and take us home.