Trees

I know I must grow deeper to bear sweeter fruit
I know I must be rooted to withstand these trials of truth
In soil enriched with iron, I am sharpened and yet tangled
Sauntering in a fragile foundation, susceptible to insects and snakelike temptations

With avoidance, I continually push myself
Blindly creating what seems like endless pathways
Attaching and weaving myself through familiar salvations
Until I become thirsty, in need of a specific holy libation

I find temporary rest in the hydration of hope
Yet unable to be still, the surface heat keeps me pressing
Searching for a way out of the lukewarm earth into the fiery rays of light
I get caught in a cycle between parched works and words constantly digressing

Anxious for the breakthrough, my paths keep widening
Until all of a sudden all traces of pressure are gone
Then I see the source of energy that kept me alive through the wrecking
And now I bloom to make sure other trees know whom and what they need to survive