How much of my life purpose
is to plant two particular seeds
and wait for the first fragile shoots,
to guard and water, feed and nurture
for years upon patient years?
How much am I to be the ancient tree
standing with one other,
giving shade and shelter,
growing fuller, taller, more lush,
weathering brutal storms,
baking sun and bitter cold,
rooted in earth, arms extending into sky?
How much of my purpose,
in this lifetime at least,
is to reveal old wounds,
healing past, present and future;
to speak Truth
from a heart no longer armored,
to love beyond measure,
to be loved without condition?
Margaret Dubay Mikus