The limp leaves that begin
to curl before drying
on the limb and letting go,
the bark that fissures and cracks,
peeling back from the trunk,
the sap that seeps and runs
to cover a wound or release
disease, the canopy that sags
in drought or after a heavy spring
storm — in this world every growing
thing mourns, and when we weep,
we never weep alone.
—C.L. Fisher, February 2021
Unless otherwise indicated, all content, including writing and images, are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.
Poetic Meanderings 
A tender tree fettered too long as the harsh winds blew
Creating a wound that sheds tears unnoticed
A distress now known and a cry now heard
A tender tree now unfettered yet so uncertain
As a trail of tears lead to the wound
Now exposed yet remains a mystery
As silent distress penetrates from the inside
Once again revealing a freshness that cannot be denied
When and how will the wound find its healing
Will it hope for that gracious faithful wind to come and lay its balm
Will the weeping be shared and the hurt be somehow relieved and understood
For life remains under the skies-His steadfast canopy of grace
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I love the hope of His “steadfast canopy.” That is a place of sweet rest, friend.
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