Hawthorn

Bird in Hawthorn Tree by bramblejungle on FlickrChildhood inoculated good faith in me.

Not least to thank: the hawthorn tree.

Thorns and berries abound,

From sky to ground, in it, by imagination,

With the birds myself I found.

Offensive, it stands brazen yet sensitive: a place to live.

My exposure to its likes, by trails through grass trodden by bikes,

Could only be, what mom may call, a lesson taught au natural. And so:

Not unlike the pain of choosing, of gaining, then loosing,

Confidence through ignorance,

Is the damage done today

By the human race.

 

Good faith in nature’s ways brings anguish and dismay,

I sense en masse, and fast paced,

A threshold we soon face.

Yet thorns and berries borne together,

Will choose a fate, for those acquainted with this space

Of limits, learning, and grace.

 

Now I, accountable for what scrapes I bore,

Move to give and progress more.

Those little birds – for berries, songs they wield.

Calling others to chance the thorns…

“Come now, from the fields.”

 -Heather Bauer
 

There are times when so many thoughts cannot be succinctly put together in an effective way – without the use of imagery, metaphor, rhyme and simile…

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