Killing off these trees I was given
My forest thin
Skies darkening
Only the Maker can resurrect
Paths blocked from roots upturned
Branches beaten, broken, battered
The rains come
No shelter to be found
I look up, my tears are washed to the ground
My hair dripping, clothes clinging
I shiver and shake
Prayers offered up
that the Sun will shine and bring new growth
But for now I embrace this storm.
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