There is a tree that grows in my heart –
Sometimes it hurts.
The roots dig in and the branches stretch –
The trunk has the ringed roughness of birch,
The branches are taller than a giant redwood –
I could cut it out, I know I should:
But it gives me oxygen when I can’t breathe.
Maybe we’re all a forest of trees,
Stretching towards the sky –
Wishing we could fly.
With our feet planted in the earth,
Shook by the earthquakes of change,
And the icy blue winds of the North –
We weather the storms, no matter how strange,
And nurture the wild forest in our hearts.