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