by Penelope Guzzo

“He is like a tree 
planted by streams of water 
that yields its fruit in its season, 
and its leaf does not wither. 
In all that he does, he prospers.”


             She is like a seed. 
 
She travels through the rushing stream; 
she is propelled off the rock. 
Thrown to another.  
Planted in the coarse, brown mud— 
maturing before time and  
rooted by the Tree of Life. 
 
She soon develops the fruits of the season. 
The fruit of this season is peace. 
The fruit of the next season is patience.   
When winter arrives,  
her leaves do not wither. 
The wicked wind  
does not tempt the leaves  
to the dark, lonely paths  
across the way.  
 
Her leaves stay pure  
and develop into rose buds of red. 
The Thunderstorm cleanses  
the buds into a snowy white. 
His rain takes the whip of the wind, 
and is flung across the thorns of the bush below— 
a crown. 
 
The lightning strikes the cold, wet ground— 
awakening the fallen leaves  
on the obscure, chilling path. 
The flames are nourished  
by the breath of the Psalms. 
The flames ascend through the chill of the air, 
clearing the land and making it anew.

Penelope Guzzo is a creative writing student at a Tampa private Christian school. Her poems have been published in The Way Back to Ourselves Journal. She has earned awards for costume design in technical theater. Her love for literature started in third grade when her teacher challenged her to write her own book. Since then, she has gone on an expedition to uncover her creative desires to communicate her thoughts—by saying nothing yet writing so loud that the world would hear. In her free time, she loves to have fun with her friends or settle down with a good book.