Among a stand of stately pines
A tree grew slowly in their midst
With gnarled trunk and twisted limbs
‘Twas not the same but different
It grew from seed that was like kind
In soil rich on mountain side
With rains and sun and starlit nights
The same pristine environment
But oh this tree found challenges
Growing straight though it tried
It still bent and turned and curved
Ever upward towards the sky
And try it might to figure out
Why it was a bended tree
No answers came to make it tall
As it grew on, gnarls and all
In that forest wide and vast
The tree was host to many things
Creatures perched on twisted limbs
And home for birds to nestle in
Squirrels scampered joyfully
Up and down the knotty trunk
Young ones finding this one tree
Their favorite in the forest sea
It was not perfect or austere
Staring down from lofty heights
But shared its lumps and bumps with them
Sheltered them through darkened nights
Humans loved the tree as well
Sitting on its crooked trunk
Taking respite on their way
To pastures higher there to play
The tree endured for many years
Knowing it was different
Still possessing something strong
A refuge sure though it was bent
And so the tree grew on and on
Each gnarl and twist a testament
Of strength born out of keeping on
What e’re the storm, what e’re it meant
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Sherry, i really do love this poem. .. I think we can all relate, and yet it takes so long to be at peace with our gnarles.
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Thank you for reading, Tammy, snd for your words of encouragement. It does take a long time, doesn’t it? I am so thankful Jesus is in the business of forgiveness and refinement! And in making beauty out of whatever we are. 💞
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Nice! Brings the vision right to ya!
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Thank you! 💞🥰
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