Poem and Photo by Ross Rosenberg, 1996
The old oak tree stands tall
but crooked.
It’s cracked,
coarse,
creviced surface.
reflects the assault of the seasons.
The rain,
heat and snow
of seasons yonder
grate at its surface
with diamond sharp teeth.
Digging in
Leaving permanent marks.
In defiance the tree stretches,
Grows
and moves skyward.
Its roots reach around rocky obstacles
Firmly anchoring itself the earth.
Exerting strength and desire.
Forcing its viability
to grow into yet another season.
Roots that are deeply implanted
into uninviting
rocky
and inhospitable soil
Forcefully create a home.
And the tree proclaims:
“I am a tree
I am from the earth
Neither rain,
snow,
wind,
heat
nor cold
will supplant my desire to leave
I remain where I belong”
Ross Rosenberg, 1996
By Ross Rosenberg, M.Ed, LCPC, CADC, CSAT
Psychotherapist, Author, Educator, Expert Witness
For more information visit: Self-Love Recovery Institute
