The Little Tree


In my importance

You picked me up

Here I sit

In water

At the center of your table

You adored me

Yet, I wilted

My roots were not to be found

Until I rest in the compost.

Jackie Blair McSween

4 comments

  1. Jill Joy

    I love this poem. Reminds me that we can not find true sustenance in the affection and adoration of others. No matter how special or adored they make us feel for a short while. Only when we rest in the divine “compost” are our true roots to eternity found. Beautiful.

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