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201: What I Forgot

Sometimes I wish I was the fig tree.

No fruit here, just soaking up the sun

growing roots, turning green,

stretching out my branches until

I can hug the horizon.

Sometimes I wish I was the fig tree,

because she doesn’t produce

and she’s not exhausted,

and she probably gets eight hours

of sleep at night.

And her branches,

unlike my shoulders,

are not heavy with work-

pulled towards the ground,

threatening to break.

And her trunk,

unlike my spine,

is not fighting to stand tall

while holding it all together.

Sometimes I wish I was the fig tree

because she knows

what I forgot

many years ago.


You are still worthy

even if

you don’t produce.



Written by Sarah Speed for A Sanctified Art // Writing the Good

Inspired by the Parable of the Fig Tree, Luke 13:6-9


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Hi, thanks for stopping by!

I'm Sarah (Are) Speed, the writer behind Writing The Good. I'm so honored you're here! To get more poems, follow @writingthegood on Facebook and Instagram! 

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