A poem

Photo by Moh Yusril Firmansyah on Unsplash

I’ve written a couple of poems. It’s surprised me, to be honest. Both just sort of flowed through me; I didn’t have to work particularly hard on either, but they feel just right somehow, the proverbial third bowl of porridge.

Here’s the first. I don’t think it has a final name yet, so for now, I’ll call it

rEGROWTH

A few years ago

They cut a tree back in the park.

I don’t know why;

Perhaps it was getting too big.

In winter its stunted branches loom

ominously in the dark

Deformed and imposing

But now, in spring, new life bursts forth

Tiny twigs reaching skywards

Adorned with little leaves that

twinkle like jewels in the bright April sun.

I’m trying to learn how to let new life spring forth

From the parts I’ve chopped back

Each cut has left a void

Something left behind, some potential unfulfilled.

But perhaps

Just perhaps

I don’t need to try so hard.

Perhaps, like the tree, life will spring forth

Stubborn and bright

And mine.