Beauty in Everything

The wind kicks up
Glosses it's touch up the leaves
So uplifting
To cast down the current of the seeds

Sweet landing
If they could smile
This is where they call home
After drifting for miles

Perfectly open to the light
Full face of daily Sun
Enough moisture in the morning
For the sprout to root and run

And through the seasons
It stretches out it's limbs
Basking yearly
Branches broken just to mend

Amen

Canopied
To shade the heated weary
Oaken strength
A place of rest for the dreary

Eyed from a distance
By men who see it's use
Saws in hand
They began, their needed abuse

Teeth that grip the trunk
Gnawing their way through
A mighty crash
As it topples into a life so new

Hauled away
To be reshaped inside the mill
Recreation
The bark they strip and peel

Gentle fibers
Palms of hands they stroke
Twisted irony like it's burls
Fashioned into new rope

Packed in burlap
And loaded in a bed
More distance traveled
Knotted from the thread

It sits for months inside a shop
It waits upon the shelf
Until the bell rings from entance
"Can i be of any help?"

Labor transferred to paper
To transact the purchase
Sold in the need
Of someone lost in purpose

A weary man
With no shade or rest to find
With brutal hands
And shallow mind

Inescapable past
That he can't seem to rewind
No future to glance
He's out of time

Thirteen spirals
For the seed be put to use
Oddly enough
Another branch supports the noose

Tightened teardrop
Cuts into the neck it meets
As the wind passes by
My dangling feet