Raw soil that buries a truth
Years of being trampled and stepped on
It hides an immaculate growth
Begging for time and forgiveness
The soil gives birth to a tree
Rooted to the core of the earth
It stands esthetic and pure in the sun
Such beauty and spirit, it stands alone
Separate from this wicked forest
But imprisoned in its hatred and anger
Unbeknownst to what it truly deserves
To be planted among eternities in the Garden of Eden
Instead the tree constantly receives a wind of animosity
Ripping its sacred leaves from their brittle branches
Naked wood exposed and battered
A spring will come
One that defies time
That will restore this hidden life
To something that should be worshipped
And it will blossom in its happiness
Standing potent in the soft spring rain
To live and root in my heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem