A gentle breeze,

Would occasionally muddle your long branches.

Even when the temperature dropped below seven degrees

It never seemed to change the circumstances.

Your façade of thick wood,

Could not have fooled a termite.

Although seeing through you is something

I could never do.

Overcast skies would hover above,

Always reluctant to weep.

You would still resort to love

And your roots still appeared to run deep.

A catastrophic wind

Would destroy your branches

And reveal your flawed interior.

A bolt of lightning

Would snap you right through the middle.

Allowing me to see in,

And see what I was never able to see before.

Understand what I never was able to comprehend.

Personify you in a way never imaginable.

And with each discovery,

Every reaction,

Is irrevocable.