Painting wood

Painting wood

Nestled for years my soul was embedded as a tree
My youthful parents frolicking in the forest of lives
Auburn hair and wide smile my mother laid her love into my bark
My father loving her so gave it to her, with his axe of trust
As the metal edge sliced into my ancient shell I escaped
Finding refuge in this woman’s warmth
Nine months later my soul was given its armor
Years passed and I was battered by illusions of truth
Parents tried so many times to get me involved with their ambitions
Tried repetitively to carve the log I had become
On the thirteenth year of my soul’s transit they gave up
Instead replaced their axes, and saws with paint
For them there were so many shades and hues
Infinite and beyond
After the twentieth coat I lost track of the names of colors
Now I sit here content as my parents frown
For when you mix together all the colors you get brown
Brown as my past, as my soul
I may be reduced but never will I decay
Cedar trees are not victims of termites
Nothing will break me
They can destroy the body but I will return
With the calmness and tranquility of which I have left
For ever and always I shall be me
A tree in a forest more than people will ever see
There amongst the leaves I can finally once again be me