Family Trees

Family Trees can never

be cut down. Roots run

deeper than I will ever

know. From head to toe,

I am just one branch

that was given the chance

to pacify Mother Nature’s

cry for help. I am a small

limb attached to a primeval

trunk: a helping hand that

is here to serve the land.

Those before me planted

a seed that continues to grow.

Some branches reach terminal

length and start splitting

for one reason or another.

It usually happens when

we lose a sister, brother,

father, or mother. Those

who wield axes and try

to chop down my family

tree need to remember

that we need oxygen

to breathe. Nonetheless,

this tree has survived

thousands of seasons,

the deepest of cuts,

and it still stands strong;

it will never fall. My family

tree is just one of many

planted firmly into ancestral

soil. Next to my tree is

an endless sea of others

just like mine – all in a line.

Each tree has its own

unique history – one ongoing

story carved into its bark.

Some trees may be darker

in color or stand a bit taller.

Despite the differences,

this forest is our home –

a place we inherited:

a place where ancestors

sing, the wind blows,

and descendants roam.