When I was young

Poetry was fun!

Rhyming was a game;

Dr. Seuss is to blame.

Creativity brought new words along

and expression grew by song.

But although it was my favorite literary style,

I hadn't found the deep meaning in poetry.

Then one day a trusted friend shared a great analogy.

He and I both understood that life is hard sometimes.

The pain doesn't show through normal terminology.

But our souls grow in grief to harmonize as windchimes.

My friend and I think of trees amidst a storm.

Battered and blown with no apology.

Those trees grow and adapt into a stronger form.

A beautiful feat accomplished by biology.

And you and I and my friend dear

may remember when winds of life are fierce

to use these times to grow in strength

and joyfully sing the song of triumph