Also, by the mailbox, you’re hidden again.
But on the rest of my walk, there you are in view.
I first realized that you were there last summer—
You’re the tallest tree in that wooded area.
I wondered, I could not tell, were you evergreen
Or would I have to look soon upon branches bare?
And maybe wonder what color autumn would bring?
I must admit—how crippled, deformed, I see you—
So Lop-sided, all your branches on your South side
Until almost the top, then your crown becomes full,
And so I wonder what caused all this imperfection.
Was it the wind, a forest fire, some crippling disease?
I wonder what story, what advise you’d give me.
You remind me of myself, too imperfect,
As I walk this dark world of sin, hate, rebellion—
I see myself like you, lopsided, faulty views,
Struggling to go forward, crowded out by others,
Yet, like you, evergreen, always pushing onward,
Ever realizing we must strive to improve.