Our Poison Tree Poem by James McLain

In a garden green, where shadows creep,
Where secrets linger and sorrows seep,
There stood a tree, its branches wide,
But hidden within, a poison resides.

Its roots dug deep, in fertile ground,
Nurtured by anger, its essence profound,
Fed by the waters of bitter disdain,
It grew and thrived, its darkness unchained.

A seed was sown in the depths of ire,
Watered by tears and fueled by fire,
A heart deceived, a friendship betrayed,
The poison tree grew, its vengeance displayed.

Its bark grew thick, its branches spread,
With whispered venom, it filled my head,
The fruits it bore, so enticingly red,
Held the venomous nectar of words unsaid.

I watched it grow, my anger untamed,
As bitterness flourished, love was maimed,
No solace sought, no peace I found,
For the poison tree consumed my ground.

The more it grew, the less I could see,
The damage inflicted, the toll it would be,
In the stillness of night, I faced my plight,
A choice to make, to vanquish the blight.

With heavy heart, I sought an accord,
To sever the ties, the poison tree gored,
I watered forgiveness, embraced the light,
And watched as the poison tree withered from sight.

For in its demise, a lesson I gleaned,
That hatred's harvest, no good redeem,
In the soil of compassion, new seeds were sown,
A chance for healing, to find my own.

Now I tend to a garden of love and grace,
Where kindness blossoms in every space,
But the memory lingers, a reminder still,
Of the poison tree, its venomous thrill.

So let us beware, the anger we nurse,
The poison we harbor, the curses we rehearse,
For in the depths of our hearts, we hold the key,
To either nurture a garden or a poison tree.