The Tree, The Earth, The Rain

There was once a tree, alone in a plain,

Transplanted from a far away forest,

Twisted, charred, ugly, half dead it stood,

Foreign to the tall native stalks of golden grain

The tree, slowly dying, even more maimed,

Than the condition it arrived, but before it

held some of its form, back then it still could,

The problem; it knew not old Earth, nor precious Rain

Earth knew this so he told the sky to rain,

The tree, for a brief moment was content,

Its branches fuller, its leaves bright as day,

But after the storm, it cried, it wilted, it sighed

It thirsted, and once again wilting, pained,

The life giving water had stopped, was spent,

So earth told sky to rain again, to save

the tired withered tree that was destined to die

Earth crafted a reservoir around tree,

So the next time it rained a stream would form,

Rain fell from sky and filled the empty hole,

The wonders of Earth, told to tree by rain, now stream

It took so long, but tree could finally see,

Could understand, it might not be the norm,

Not in the plain, but never alone, so,

With Earth and Stream, Tree could watch distant sun gleam

And even though Tree knows Stream will one day be gone, being with Rain was a treat,

And Tree feels far less stranded among Grain with knowledge of Earth; he feels great

-for those who wish to understand the metaphor, I am the tree, my ex-girl friend is the water, God is the Earth and the Sun is the future. Understandably, the sun was gleaming somewhat more brightly before I was dumped.