Your wide canopy will soon arch over us . It ’ ll swallow the sunlight and the wind and give back shade and nourishing breath . Leafy limbs will reach downward and bow to the earth –– a sanctuary for all who come near .
Me , I ’ m a tangled mess . Always longing for my own broad canopy to take shape , a refuge for me and those on my path . Will I have time to make new buds and smooth it all out before I die ?
Not so sure I have what it takes .
... Stillness in the a ernoon sun . Only tiny spiders cross my walkway and biting flies disturb .
Can I endure the silence between the soundings ? The not knowing . I want to be sure there ’ s a solid me underneath it all . Somebody ready to flourish again .
A breeze picks up .
On the horizon a slender young Locust Tree comes into view . Her thin green leaves are dancing in the wind , rimmed in gold by the sunlight . Swaying sweetly , still sassy and brave , she holds her own beside your aging fullness .
A Dancing Maiden , I think .
Graceful , unrestrained , and beautiful . Perhaps , young spirit , you will dance your way into my heart . You and I , we ’ ll move to the rhythm of the stars –– the insistent refrain of courage , possibility , and hope .