Poetry

Poison Ivy

Viewing life through other perspectives
Besides our own
It is easy to see how often conflicts arise
As each to himself or herself
A religion or identity is held onto
In fear of isolation
We all cling like ivy to a branch of a tree
Unaware whether it is dead or alive
All that matters is that we climb
To satisfy a role of moving forward.
We do this automatically believing we may reach a height
That will give us everlasting life or at least a comfortable position.
We hope the tree has magic within it
That a bolt of lightening from the sky has anointed it
All we need do is climb and others will see the value in our effort.
However, there are some who say
Our tree is lying
That it is flat on the ground decaying at the mouth of a river
That despite our many years of work
We are no closer to the sky then when we began
With our identities challenged
We defensively embed ourselves deeper in growing religion
Which justifies our movement with fable
And rewards us who do not waver in our belief
So what seems to be obvious is often obscured with perspective…poison ivy.