a tree gives of itself
nurtures, bears fruit and flower
only cos it is at peace
with itself, accepting each leaf
even tiny , scrawny ones.
(only dead leaves are shed)
rooted, grounded firmly in place
the sun may scorch its leaves
at times, but the tree knows it cannot
turn from the sun and live.
to give of myself
I must accept each part
of this self, be at peace
(shed only dead ones)
I must be rooted, centred
people may scorch me a times
with biting remarks, but I cannot
turn from people and live.
2 comments:
this one's a better metaphor poem than door handles...here also, it fits completely
I have decided to read this aloud to my students during assembly. Will write to you about their feedback.
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