The Tree Of Life Poem by Brooke Harris

I stand her tall and proud
bearing my leaves for all to see.
I am round, hard and soft.
I am the look that befalls their faces
as the gaze up at my beauty
their faces soften with peace and serenity.
I bear ripe fruits from my branches.
Apples, pears, oranges, and more.
I am a tree, the first of this magnificent earth.
The first to bless a humane with air.
I am the Tree of Life.
My rays of warmth spread far and wide,
incasing all in my mother embrace.
All has stemmed from me,
and all shall perish with me.
As I stand here tall and proud,
looking at this new world
so different from the old.
I can’t help but feel remorse
for my dying beloved planet.
I, the first tree, am starting to regret,
giving my first breath to man.
For man has done nothing in return for
my blessing.
Man has cursed my sacred home.
Man has spit and stomped his boot on my
children, my brothers and sisters.
my family slowly rots and decays,
dies before they have even reached their middle cycle.
Dies before they have even lived.
I am the bringer of life,
and sometimes I contemplate,
Should I take it away?