The Gum of Carved Names

Droopy, lonely, afraid
No Purpose, no worth
The white Australian gum, isolated from,
the life he was meant to fulfil

Twisted branches,
To the verge of death
We give it life, carving our names
Into the rough texture of the trunk

We give it life, we give it purpose
Birds chirping, sun shining
Leaves rustling in the breeze
A home to all, who come to seek

Whispering memories of the children’s laughter,
The white gum became our friend
Winter passed, spring arrived
Hope is here again