Tree Across the Street
“Let us stretch ourselves out towards him,
that when he comes he may fill us full."
—St. Augustine
The tree across the street,
the one framed in our front window,
was slowly losing its leaves
until yesterday’s wind came.
Now only a scattering of red
and orange remain,
exposing a maze of branches
reaching out,
stretching up.
And then there is my heart,
how gradually I reveal it
to me to you
to God.
How my longings reach out
and then stretch
and stretch up,
waiting to be filled.
And in the spring,
the tree in our window shines
in the afternoon sun,
rich with its pink flowers
and its green leaves.
An earlier version of this poem was published in The Goodness of the Lord in the Land of the Living: Selected Poems of Leslie Anne Bustard.
Cover image by Cole Freeman.