arbortrary judgment.
often i have wondered how others
perceive my outer shell, and how
it portrays that which appears real.
broken bark and biting bugs
may be what they first meet.
the burrow of termites have
left their tunneled mark. a clear
infestation that rots the face of my life.
or maybe they see the burn,
the scar of that conflagration (i escaped
a fate darker than any would desire).
and then there's the cracks where
lightning struck and splintered
my weather-wearied wood.
they see the busted branches where
boys would bring their budding loves
and declare their hearts' intent.
the scattered fragments of my beaten body
bear the marks that meet men's minds,
which manage to make meaning of nothing
more than chips and scratches and holes
and fragile twigs and old memories.
and yet, they fail to see within this skin,
unknowing that deep inside is a soul
one-hundred-and fifty rings deep. i have seen the
rising and setting of more moons than any man.
i have heard the hushed vows of sweethearts
in the breeze. my inner world never stops.
through noetic xylem and phloem, i find
the deepest Water, and no one knows
i drink my heart's content.
i stand firm despite the wind, albeit
escaping somewhat scathed. and more
than any other i know, i turn to the Sun
and find His Light, my truest source of Life.
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