The Vines

A walking we went, me and she, came upon a walnut tree.
Covered round with vines all over, some green, some brown,
some tight, some down.
Vines in all the ways they are with leaves acover overhead.

She grabbed a vine and showed me it. " Do you think that it will live?"
Gently then I took it from her, layed it back where it belonged.
Twining gently among its fellows supporting, held and holding on.

"It will live, with gentle nurture. It will thrive held strong and light.
The walnut tree its home for living twined about with arms aplenty.
Some they die. They spent their lives, in the heart of all their loved ones.

They live long with certain knowledge. All they are is what they should be.
Uncertainty was on her features. Disbelief was in her eyes.
"What if they forget  their purpose? Letting go, will they fall down?"

Smiling then, teeth, eyes and heart, I reminded her again of loving
"There cannot be fall of any if the family holds them tight.
Letting go, they're held so gently till they wake and grab what's right."

Then I thought she might believe me as a smile lurked on the edges.
"I might forget without reminding, won't you tell me now and then?"
"Every day I'll hold you gently, keep you tight against my breast.

Even when I don't speak plenty, quietly I'll tend the vines."