The rules are pretty simple. One word. Five minutes of writing. No editing.
Bark.
Branches.
Leaves.
Health.
Living.
Breath.
Life.
Growth.
Season.
Home.
Strength.
Family tree.
Tire swing.
Hunting stands.
Deer rub.
Forest fires.
Forests.
Lumber.
Marker.
Jumping in leaf piles.
This tree has seen my husband grow up. It has seen his Mom grow up. It has seen her Dad grow up and his Dad before him and his Dad before him and his Dad before him and so on and so on. It's seen many many generations grow up before it. It stands there. Rooted into the ground that has been it's home for so long. Taking in memory after memory. Some sweet, some extremely painful. But it still stands there. Time after time. Tear after tear. Joyful screams after joyful screams. Tag games played under it. Many a hunters climbing into it. Deer rubbing on it. This tree stands there for all the family to see. Generations look to it. It's a constant. It is there. It is the family tree. Always growing season after season.
Love your initial poem! When I saw this prompt, I was thinking how I wished for a "family tree." One that had seen many generations. What an amazing heritage to have and be part of.
ReplyDeleteDear WesAnna
ReplyDeleteIf only trees could talk, I think you guys would have been intrigued by hours of romance, suspense, sorrow and all the things life is made of. Your photo brings honor to this old one who has brought praises to its Creator all through many generations.
Blessings XX
Mia
Stopping by from FMF. Lovely words, WesAnna.
ReplyDelete