The Tree In Me
By John Herlihy

When I look deeply within myself, I see a tree in me;
Not at all a likely image, but that is what I truly see.
Thru different kinds of weathers, the tree stands tall;
Stately it bends and stately it gathers wherewithal.
I shudder when I imagine this noble tree to imitate;
Seldom do I stately bend, its nobility to approximate.

The tree extends its branches upward in simplicity;
The heart of the tree expresses its own rare felicity.
I also extend my hands upward as I stumble and fall;
Like the tree, I seek balance and harmony above all.
The tree is home for some, birds nest there, they fly;
They bear their fruit in patience, without asking why.

I too seek to express myself and do so with patience
But I know I could never match its quiet eloquence
The noble tree bears the brunt of the four seasons;
Each season anointing the earth for its own reasons.
I too need to weather the challenge of life’s storms;
To sway, to bend, to rise again when Heaven warns.

Not to be the tree itself, its delicate limbs preening;
To be as the tree, with its delicate elusive meaning.