Poem: Careful with the Pruning.

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Careful with the Pruning

This is what happens.

Storms.
Or weight
or wind
pull down the limb,

almost,
but not quite, separating it
from the trunk that gives it life,
that connects it to its roots.

By all rights, it should die.
A slow death,
a slow starvation
punctuated
by deep and violent scars.

But this is not what happens.

There is a hidden miracle in its veins.
And slowly, it’s hunger reaches groundward.
New growth, spindly at first,
then season after season, stronger.
New roots find new ground
and dig deep for water and food.

and the broken limb,
wounds and all, becomes a new thing.
Somehow still attached to it’s broken trunk
even as it reaches skyward to new light.
Still attached.
Wholly new.

It takes time.
It takes a gardener who is not fast with his pruning,
Not eager to shed the wounded.
It takes time, but,

This is how it happens.

About this poem.

A poem about trees. The picture was taken at the Vanderbilt mansion in Hyde Park and this is what happened to that particular tree. I’ve seen it happen with other trees as well.

A poem about lives. I’ve seen that happen as well.

Careful with the pruning.

Tom

 

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