Treetops sway in the relentless winds. Their branches, dry from drought, bend and snap. The rough, grey clouds cast shadowy monuments of fear, rejection, and shame. Thunder BOOMS; lightning claps its hands, anticipating the fight. Still the tree stands, roots firm in their ways.
Then, all of a sudden - - pitter - patter.
The sky showers the barren. The tree soaks in health and strength as a gust of new hope blows in.
And after the storm, a still, small voice.
"You can be free."
And at that moment, "remaining tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."
Sunshine penetrates the foliage with courage for a new beginning.
It is finally free.