Summer leaves our sweet tree blushing
from the Sun’s golden kiss.
She’s busy soaking up any love she can possess.
Arms high, palms outstretched, reaching always,
The Sun smiles.

The Sun can’t help Himself, you see
So he pours and pours, lavish, lavish.
Drops of perfect light like honey,
caught on emerald green
turning yellow slowly.

Hands grow heavy from the blessing
bending, caving,
sunlight slips off to the ground,
bringing down her leaves.

The tree has stored up in her heart
all the love that she can fathom.
She shakes and lets go
A cascade of a lover’s trinkets
no longer needed when fully known
in his eyes is her loveliness.

Gone are the leaves,
but the tree’s still reaching
less desperation, instead more praise,
feeling, finally, the Sun’s golden smile
on her bones.

The light has seeped down, now
to her roots, underground.
A work has begun
New life, and resurrection

And she grows.

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