Love: Chronicles of a New Mother

There is something about a mother to a child,

love is patient,

love is kind,

love is discipline,

in my eye.

This beautiful little sprig has come to see,

a world so big,

This sprig comes of me,

This sprig is me,

This sprig must be shaped to the new mother tree,

With many days and nights of love and care

my little sprig grows,

Tell me what happens if you don't prune your tree?

A wild tree may be beautiful but theres less fruit you see,

Their strength is limb,

Their ability to be resilient fades,

The dead habits block the opportunity for the new good green to grow to thrive.

Pruning,

is difficult as a covered tree sits there before you naked in its place.

the void, however, in time, will be filled.

It's all out of love.

The tree will be stronger,

The fruit will be aboundant,

The days will be many of it to be,

And to give,

Love.

A poem by Michelle Marin