Fertile was the land that once held me in its arms
Sprouting life and love from every corner
Even in the coldest seasons, I felt nurtured
A small sapling then, I soaked up nutrients from the soil

Mother was the ground I grew in, packed in warmth
Father was a stream that flowed to me, and I gratefully drank
Always protected. Always satisfied. Until father saw a flaw in my leaves
And his spring became icy, cold and harmful

I feared when his water came, a cascading tsunami
It tore at my roots and stifled my bloom
Each bit taking more and more
Yet I managed to cling on, trembling and praying for calm

Time passed and I grew, but so did the foliage around me
Mother was displeased with father's harsh currents
His spring sprouted weeds, thorns and thistles
Separating us from much needed relief

Until a forest of dry, wooden dagger trees became a barricade
And long harsh summers rotted and dried the soil.
I stretched my leaves seeking moisture
And was met with silence from him

This summer has been brutal. And winter just as dry
Only when I plead with brown, crackling stems
Does a trickle of his water reach me and give me a grace period
But only a trickle. And only when desperation sets in

I try to disguise the browns with more yellow
Holding my wilting petals as high as I can manage
But until father can wash away the barrier he built
I'll never see the warmth and surplus of water he once dealt.

I'm surviving, but always thirsty.

© melluvssunsetswrites