The Branch

The Branch
By Luke Ferguson
Written July 18, 2007

Deep in a forest there stood a great tree
With roots down deep in the earth of green;
And out of the tree grew branches with leaves
Each branch had a purpose apart from the tree.

The longer the branch stayed on the deep-rooted tree
The greener it got and the stronger it seemed.
As thicker, and longer, and stronger it grew
The branch had a purpose, its deep heart knew.

One day to this tree a woodsman came
Seeking some wood to light his flame:
Branches thick, and long, and strong
Whose purpose was to him to belong.

He sought the wood, and saw the branch
On the tree deeply rooted in green.
With ax in hand, he did not blanch.
And separated wood form life of tree.

“A fire log, full of sap.
Hard to ignite, but slow to burn.”
Off he walked with the wood on his back.
To the tree the log would not return.

The tree kept growing, making more.
The woodsman lit the fires of war.
The chosen branch fulfilled his life
And ended consumed in glorious light.

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Mallon Magma

A peaceful mountain green with trees,
Adorned with snow, and swept with breeze
Suddenly, ERUPTS!

Ashen smoke spreads far and wide,
And orange fire glows inside
Roaring with release.

Passion flows like molten rock
Pouring out as others mock:
“His bursting interrupts.”

When cooled, the land is vast reshaped,
With air enriched by life escaped;
Creation is at peace.