No matter how high a tree may grow,
it can never touch the sun.
Yearn though it will, strive how it might,
it can never reach that golden height.
God planted the tree of life in His garden,
firmly rooted upon this good earth.
We are the fruit borne of that tree of life,
grown in the beautiful garden of God's delight.
We, too, yearn for the heavens,
offering our sincere prayers to the sky.
We, too, struggle to reach that light,
to move from shadow into God's sight.
Like apples, sometimes we fall quickly,
smashing down with a rock hard thud.
Or like leaves, we take momentary flight,
twirling gently down into God's good night.
Either way we can never fully attain
the elevation needed to rise above the stain,
we are the bruised fruit of this worldly life,
and our children, our seeds, inherit our blight.
© Francisco G. Rodriquez, 2012