A poem: The Tree of Life with roots and hidden fruit

Definitely a piece of art that can stand alone.
I started to post it simply for you to use your imagination and come up with your own story, or poem, or epiphany! But then it wouldn't fit into a blog, now would it?


Eerily romantic, and hauntingly captivating, I call this piece The Tree of Life with roots and hidden fruit.  Wonder what the artist calls it. 


It is so...so...
thought provoking.
Emotion evoking.

It's vintage with a hint of new age.
The sky is the limit,
the whole world their stage.

A soft kiss
A warm, but strong embrace
Bodies - still, silent movie
No name, no face.

It's no one
It's everyone
It's love and life
and Divine union

Barbaric, yet gentle
Naked, but unobtrusive
The secrets to life
So simple it's Elusive

With time, will the colors eventually turn green and blue, with hues of orange, brown?
Will there be water and stars and leaves to blow in the wind and fall down?
Will there one day be birds singing and animals playing and running around?
Or will the picture always be sepia-toned with the same message playing out loud
...feel me, see me.
What do you think of when you look at me?

It's vintage with a hint of new age.
The sky is the limit,
the whole world their stage.

Barren surroundings,
yet the tree brings forth life.
But where did he come from?
From the earth or from the sky?
Did he drop down from their loins
and travel through the root cave to the light.
Or did he simply fall from a branch,
you know the one with hidden fruit and remains out of sight?

Sensual and mysterious,
It makes me curious...
Will the babe grow up,
wrap his arms about his parents making the tree ever so much stronger?
Or will he simply crawl away, find a mate,
and plant his roots even longer?

It's vintage with a hint of new age.
The sky is the limit,
the whole world their stage.

Dark and ambiguous,
It makes me curious...
How tall are the branches?
How far do they extend?
How deep are the roots?
Freeze frame deception
-so what did the artist intend?

It's sexual and erotic,
enchanting and exotic.
Profound, and yes to some profane.
But what anyway is in a name?
As Shakespeare so eloquently put it,
titled by any name, it's still the same...

True Art!

PS.   And if you're reading this and know the artist's name, please let me know. 

Will I ever find love like that again?

A real, unconditional, sustaining, nurturing, no holds barred kind of love. The kind of love that you feel when you look at someone so imperfect, but see only perfection. The kind of love that can't be bought or sold. The kind of love that has truly stood the tests of time and fear, and passed. The kind of love that has weathered every storm and was stronger for it...

This is the kind of love I received from my parents. After my mom passed a few years back, my dad was still there to pour it all over me everyday. But with my dad's passing recently, I couldn't help but cry, and one of the reasons was because I knew I'd never have this type of love again.

The other day I was thinking about it. I was thinking about him, and I began to cry more tears. I thought about how overly protective he was, and how he worried about me "too much." I thought about how he was my biggest fan and has supported everything I've ever done. I thought about how he was the best coach and counselor in the world. I thought about how wise and humble he was. I thought about his quiet inner-strength. And I missed him so much.

I couldn't help but feel sorry for myself. But right at the point of total dispair, I could see my wonderful, lovely baby boy in my mind's eye. My dad had poured all of himself into my son before he moved on. And he did so with purpose, so that there would be enough of him left here to sustain me. He knew me so well.

So that real, unconditional, sustaining, nurturing, no holds barred kind of love... well I never lost it at all. My son looks at me just the way my dad did. He loves me the same way my dad did. He inspires me the same way my dad did. And he thinks I can do anything.

The tears dried up so quickly that I almost forgot they had ever been there. I smiled and I wondered how I'd even questioned finding this kind of love again when it had been right there staring at me all the time.

Secrets to be Kept

"SECRETS TO BE KEPT" An Urban Play
Friday, April 27th at 8:00 PM
Saturday, April 28th at 8:00 PM

Purchase Tickets for Friday, April 27th (sorry, tickets to this show no longer available)

Purchase Tickets for Saturday, April 28th (sorry, tickets to this show no longer available)

"Secrets to Be Kept" goes from small secrets to opening unwanted doors. Juanita Davis and Abby Davis are sisters that are bonded by lies and deception. Juanita's daughter Yolanda has not been in college for six months and her mother does not know. What else is she keeping from her mother? Greg Taylor is Juanita's companion and unbeknownst to Juanita, Greg is manipulative and deceptive. His secret and deception could destroy family ties.

Tyrone Moses, Juanita's childhood friend carries a torch for Juanita but he has a secret that could shatter his friendship with Juanita. Ms. Shirley White, Juanita's neighbor, is always around for each secret to fall in her lap. The cast also includes Antwanette, the outspoken mail carrier, and her side-kick, Antwon (also a mail carrier).

Can a family remain united and continue to love each other in spite of deception and dark secrets?

Written, produced, and directed by Yvette Mann Joshua, CEO of My Joshua Productions.