Better Trees Flourish Poem by Barbara Villabol

There were old growth trees and shrubs
Some were memories worth keeping
Some were diseased

I contemplated removing the rotted portions
That clung to my soul

To dig, and chop, and pull, and remove
All rancor

To allow the better trees to flourish
Air to circulate
Sunlight to penetrate

Would require strength and resolve
Beyond my injured resource

Health came to what remained
Restored as we dug, and chopped, and pulled, together

You came to know my story
And I yours

This is a lovely forest now.