Friday, May 30, 2008


I am your father
and I do love you.
Not from my heart
but from beyond my soul
where you came from,
the light of an evening of hard sighs
and heavy love.
I watched as you grew
from my seed into a tree within a forest of giants,
you casting shadows long
but branches only coming near
the age of my existence.
Not here to compare
not here to condemn or compromise
the state of your being,
for branches stretched can never resume their original shape.
This much I know.
I do know.
I do know
I need you now for your love,
can you give it like an intense rain
a hard rain to wash over me
because my roots have been cut away?

Cut, dried, and poisoned by the very soil that gave birth to you,
leaves turned
and my bark rotted and chipped.
Can you give it?
Can you give it?

No longer can I protect you from a cold wind
so I ask,
can you lean against me my son?
Can you lend me some of your warmth
in exchange for a story of 'Old Eden'?

Can you close your eyes
and let the shape of my words fan the passion
of your heart,
into my spirit?

Can you grow beyond the dream my son?
Can you grow?
Can you grow?
Can you grow my son?

The Tree Story by Shazza Nakim
Copyright © by Peace of Mind Publishings and with permission by Shazza Nakim

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