by Laurence Wilkins03 May 2019
To glance at the magnificent oak of the tree of Soteria
bearing grace through the gales of my tendancy to part
to shelter under it, was a blessing and nothing less-
abundance of branches, unfolding to both saplings and weeds
to trust it and be nurtured amongst her bouquet, held-
through lifes storm, I left with the tree still standing tall.
like most weeds, I took shelter some more,
but all the tree's that have covered me, were no Soteria.
with their branches caked in moss
I cling to the soil that I carried back with me,
and I sprinkle the soil around my foundation
in a hope that in time my own tree will grow.
Through centuries of selfless branching
my tree of Soteria has naturally grown the unfortunate branch
with one crow already settled on its tip,
another will land;
Soteria is overdue her own miracle.