In this tree's young life
Some surgeon pruned
With saw as a knife
And hacked off limbs
Like divorcing a wife
And left nothing,
but sappy stumps
In greenery's absence
Knots, bumps and lumps
All that remained
Were bark, roots and trunk
But you resolutely refused
To slip into a funk
All creatures that had made
Your branches their nest
Had crawled, flown and leapt
To some security and rest
In another's limbs
They make their request
And you,
Barren, fruitless
Bereft,
Stare at the stark sky
Crane to it's behest
Their is nothing for it,
Nothing else left
And you draw from your roots
Despite any pain
And, climbing, you rise
Skyward again
With no attachment
To divert your strength
You grow through the scars
You go to great lengths
And heights await you
Above canopies
And growing more still
You pass other trees
You leave them behind
Till they stand, tipped-toes at your knees
And ugly and scarred
It is you that stands stout
Stands beautiful beyond others
As your branches stretch out
Yes when the bough broke
And cradel fell
You grew through the pain
You conquered it well
The heavenly summoning
The eagles cries
The call of the sun
And the heights
And the skies
Was greater than pity
And so
Upwards we rise
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