Tender Strength

A tree stood tall and proud, swaying gently with the wind.
  It had taken root in the remains of an old-growth tree.
  Hugging its mother with roots, supple and granite hard.
  Holding fast to its perch six feet off the ground.

I asked, 'Tree, how do I live in my strength?'

She replied, 'I am strong.  I do not hide my strength.
  I stand in my strength.
  To cower would not be authentic.'

'How,' I asked, 'do you honor others and be strong
  at the same time?'

'Listen to me,' she said.
  'I am quiet.
  I reach ever toward the Creator.
  And, I stay firmly planted in this earth.'

'My arms spread out in joy and gratitude,
  giving thanks...always.'

'I am vital, bursting forth with life.
  Yet, I know always that I grow strong
  because of my mother.'

'She gave me nourishment and shelter.
  She held me up to the Creator even as
  she slipped through the veil to her next beginning.'

'I am forever grateful.
  So, I stand in my strength.
  I breath in and I breath out.
  I give whisper to the wind, and
  sprinkle to the rain.'