A field stands before me, before us all
where the tree’s loom ominously
growing by the second, wild and tall.
Everyone avoids the shade,
I tiptoe around the edges, delicate and quiet
nervous that, should shade find even the smallest patch of my skin,
I would have to start over
and wouldn’t know where to begin.
One lazy day, I took a nap near the brook
and when I awoke, it felt as though the earth shook.
I was shrouded in shadows, paralyzed with fear
I was certain that imminent failure was near.
Yet I trekked on, unafraid of the dark
and I learned how to roam freely,
singing my song
that could rival a lark’s.
For the shade was only temporary,
a teacher and friend,
and I am always embraced by sunshine
in the end.