When I was a Little Child,
gentle, meek and mild
as a fresh Spring breeze
passing through Trees,
I often awoke in my little bed
with what, to me, seemed then
a Forest of Dreams in my head.
In these, there was no room
for Tales of Fear and Doom,
for Nightmares of night and day
so many Children live even today
traumatized and brutalized,
devalued in every way.
One Dream stands out from the rest,
the Treasured Dream I love the best.
I was standing by a great Tree
grown beyond what I could see.
At its Roots I began digging deep
to find Hidden Gems of vivid colour,
all different from each other,
rough or smooth, all precious to me.
Filled with awe and wonder
of this glorious Mystery,
I found myself pondering
‘What is this mighty Tree?
What is this Treasure I have found?
What does it mean to me?’
Within my Dream I heard a sound
like the voice of a Little Child,
gentle, meek and mild
as a fresh Spring breeze
passing through Trees
to enlighten my little me-
“This is the Tree of Life.”
That Treasure is hidden everywhere,
even deep within little me.
(December 2, 2022- Shelley A. Wilson- Victoria, BC)
Flowerpoet 