This broken tree
its been turned to logs
that I sit upon
to rest, pause awhile
to soak refresh
in sight of green
it tells me
with awareness of pain
that's part of every broken form -
despair not
for within gloom that
dares to penetrate
thru' cracks of rot
in the fallen tree
still speaks of hope
that says to feel
each moment of incompleteness
that lies within
as a raw space
untouched, unfilled
waiting with tender reminder
to be cherished not condemned
its remains yours to say
whatever destiny
brings your way
core strength of purpose
is never to be taken away
by pine and pain of undeserving love
there's still lies within
broken self a further capacity
to serve, to give -
broken logs of my being
are still of worth and able
to offer tranquil and needed rest
I can still be respite
for a while
to another tired, worn out soul.