Bushes - a poem

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Bushes
by Marsha Marie


looking thru the branches
i feel lost everyday
confused of what will happen
of where i will belong

fruit of passion has dried its last withered pulse
fruit of the spirit is all i have left
tangled branches engulf my life
yet they do not hide me

green, yellow, tan and brown
like emotions they pass me around
can i taste them?
can i share them? the thorns are in the way

fruit of compassion i see to the left
fruit of resistance i see to the right
who is the master grower in all of this confusion?
why is he not pruning where i need? or is he and i do not see it?

the floor is dry 
the twigs crackle under pressure
yet when i look up i see the light
the light that will guide my spirit upwards where i belong


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