A sycamore tree stands bare
Autumn has striped it of its leaves
Winter has given it stretch marks
In the form of shedding barks

But the sycamore tree stands
Strong and sturdy, bold and brilliant
Camouflaged with colors
Yet seen by all who dare to look

It lacks its leaves but not its life
It sheds its bark but not its beauty
Nothing’s abnormal about it
All is consistent with its growth

As long as the bark shedding shows
No decay or exposed wood, all’s good
The tree is growing and maturing
And its shedding testifies to that truth

I soar and sink at once:
Overwhelmed by happiness,
While confused by sadness.

I fly and fall at once:
Thrilled about my success,
Drowning in my distress.

I love and hate me at once:
Daydreaming without bounds
Planted in reality’s grounds.

Tell me your story,
And I’ll tell you mine.
I’ll find me in yours;
You, find you in mine.

Listen to my story,
And I’ll listen to yours.
Find wholeness in my brokenness;
I’ll find lighting from your darkness.