The Tree At the End of the Lane
by: Amelia Rose
At the end of the lane
There stands a tree
That marks the street
On which to turn
To those that might not otherwise see
Every year the seasons come
And take it through its life
Then spring and fall
That change it in its blithe
Spring comes first and hallows it
Gives life to that fair tree
Blooms its blossoms
Then bursts with green
With beautiful pastels that quite agree
Where spring brings life, autumn brings death
A vivid, vibrant one at that
The leaves change to their many fall hues
They rid themselves of greens and blues
Falling, the breeze keeps them adrift
But now as I look at the tree on my lane
The leaves have all long gone.
Tall and firm it stands alone
Far and wide its branches stretch
To fill the open space
I gaze at the empty, leafless tree.
Tall and looming, its shadows reflect
Eerie monsters and shapes.
But it still marks the place to turn to the house.
And gives me hope that the leaves will return
In bright color and splendor
Just as they always do
The tree, like we,
Goes through many changes in the course of a year
But still, no matter what decorates its upper branches,
Underneath, the stark, stout trunk remains untouched
As it was; as it still is;
One of God's many beautiful creations.
The tree is a marker; a reminder; a guide
Through rain and sun and ice and snow
Its roots keep it firmly planted on solid ground
And it still marks the place
Where my journey will turn
It fulfills the service it was destined to give
That not even a delicate flower could do in its place
No one can be you as well as you can. We all, each of us has an important gift to share with the world. No one but you can give your gift in just the way you do.
So don't give up.
The world needs you.