The Tree

Black veins pulse against a dark sky,
The more I can’t breathe the harder I try.
Stars fall upon my head like rain,
Red like blood, my soul they stain.

My bone white branches exalt the sky,
And my heart repeats the same question: Why?
Solitude surrounds me from head to feet,
With every step I feel my heart beat.

The sound, it echoes from my chest,
A ribbon presented becomes my crest.
My leaves fall upon the dirt,
And I am left bare with a crown of hurt.

A cold blanket of white is draped o’er me,
What life there was ceases to be.
Then out springs the hues of yellow and green,
And a light which I had not before seen.

The sun, He extends a hand of grace,
Inviting me in with His warm face.
Though I be pale and somewhat worn,
Out of the dust I am reborn.

This poem was written about my experience with cancer. In 2016 I was diagnosed with Stage 4 Acute Lymphoblastic Lymphoma with Stage 3 CNS Involvement. I have undergone two years of intensive treatment, and am currently in a cycle called 'maintenance', where I have chemotherapy once a month instead of weekly.