I want to sit on a branch,
of my family’s tree.
With thick leaves overhead,
and bulging roots beneath me.
The smooth bark is like skin,
The sturdy wood is like bone.
Every notch tells a story,
and many generations shown.
I want to lean on its trunk,
and let it cradle my back.
Like a nurturing hug,
Exchanging energy through cracks.
I want hear the tree whisper,
telling me old family lore.
The secrets and hard truths,
That I’ve not heard before.
I want to sway in the wind,
As it bends the strong wood.
Knowing this family’s tree,
Countless storms has withstood.
The moss clings to branches,
Like favorite old friends.
Sunlight shines through it,
As each new day begins.
My family tree knows me
And greets me warmly by name,
It knows that I belong here,
Even though we’re not the same.
My family tree claims me,
And loves me dearly, as-is.
Accepting imperfections,
Like the Lord Jesus accepts us as His.
