A grand tree
grows on our property
a beach tree
whose branches shadow out
beyond expectations.
Whose limbs are stronger
than many trees.
Whose leaves against the sun
create a great
circle of shade and comfort
in our meadow.
The children climb in her,
the tops of her sturdy branches
strong enough to cradle them
as they scan their world
from this new, higher view.
The older of us sit under her,
relax in her cool afternoons
and remark how, once,
one humid, passioned night
back past remembering,
her core was
rent by lightning,
twisted, split, till,
heat exposed,
she grew grander ’round her scar
allowing her to tender even
further in the hot, glaring, sun.
Now the screaming, wrenching agony
that burning night brought
has settled into the
smiling sighs her boughs make
when the breeze blows
and we are caressed
by her souls haven.