Between The Branches

On Terry street there was a fig tree that grew over our porch. I used to always sit there when I needed to be alone. This picture reminds me alot of those times up between the branches. Away from it all. In fact I feel a poem coming on.

There’s always something more between

The branches of an elder tree

A place to rest a weary soul

When things begin to take their tole

A lovely place to catch a breath

To be alone at quiet rest

Forgotten sounds that reach me here

The gentle thrum of nature’s gears

Come breezy wind to kiss my face

Enter softly in this place

Then bursting with fantastic light

The flashing hue of orange bright

I see it is the rising sun

A warmth it breathes into my lungs

Reminding me of who I am

A daughter placed in mighty hands

Perched beyond those doubtful fears

The ones that whisper in my ears

They cannot reach me when I climb

Between the branches intertwined

Such perfect peace I’ve finally found

In my garden above the ground