Prayer Poem: If My Heart Were a Tree

While wandering through the Paradise Valley Conservation area, I found a tree across a trail. It came at the top of a hill climb and was positioned like a bench for passersby. I noticed it, stepped over, and went on my way. As I continued to walk, I wondered about all the people who stopped to find rest there. I wondered at their lives and began reflecting on my own. At the end of my hike, I returned to the tree, sat, and wrote this prayer poem.

 

“If My Heart Were a Tree”

Rev. Janelle Kurtz

 

If my heart were a tree

would its bark lend itself to the moss

so it could reach up and up

to the sun?

Borrowing its softness

to fill its own cracks

that come with strength and resilience?

 

If my heart were a tree

would its trunk rise to its full height

where it stands:

Bearing equal witness to

every unnatural storm or beautiful becoming

that dares to be?

 

If my heart were a tree

would you be able to peek inside

and see circles of growth:

The wide rings of childhood delight

emerging through exploration

creating the core that will last?

The tight rings

of years where the count was lost

constricted by fear and grief?

The widest ring that makes you wonder:

What joy exploded there?

What sense of self settled in,

inviting everything else to expand with it?

 

If my heart were a tree

would its branches be sturdy to climb?

Roomy for creatures to nest?

Supple to give release

to the little ones bounding forth

in their own leaps of faith?

Would they rain their gifts

of fruit and seed with abandon?

Heedless of what ground lies below?

 

If my heart were a tree

would light dapple through the leaves

in a disco display of life?

Would wind catch in the limbs

making a dance with its own song:

Creaking

Humming

Moaning

Whispering?

 

If my heart were a tree:

even fallen would it lend itself

as a handheld for the wavering?

A seat for the weary traveler

like the one where I sit now?

Welcoming wayfinders to rest:

Find belonging

in the world

and themselves?

 

If my heart were a tree

Broken to a stump

would it bear new life?

Fertile till the end?

 

Even then in death

would its roots still carve their way

through the dark?

Till they reach another:

Creator

Love Itself.

Refusing to be disentangled

from all that is?

 

Oh, Lord, let my heart be a tree.