Pruning the Tree of Humanity

The tree of humankind has grown too wild— 

Its branches tangled, heavy, and defiled 

With all that cannot serve the higher call. 

Then comes the pruning, not in wrath at all, 

But in the Gardener’s wise and loving art: 

What must be cut is severed from the heart 

So that the living core may stronger grow 

And bear the fruit the future needs to know.

From fire that cleansed Lemuria’s ancient grace 

To waters that removed Atlantis’ trace, 

The pattern holds across the turning page— 

A smaller remnant carries the true seed 

Through every cataclysm, every need. 

The good that time has ripened in the soul 

Survives the cut and reaches toward the whole.

Do not mistake the falling of the bough 

For cruelty; the Gardener knows how 

To shape the tree for light and spacious air. 

What feels like loss becomes the soul’s repair. 

The ark is built within the pruned and true— 

A vessel formed of all that still rings true 

To love and wisdom in the human core. 

The remnant sails to an eternal shore.

And when the storm has passed and waters cease, 

The rainbow bends above the pruned release. 

New branches rise from roots that learned to pray; 

The tree stands clearer on a brighter day. 

The War of All against All may test the form, 

Yet even there the Gardener shapes the storm 

To serve the good seed’s journey into light— 

The pruned humanity made fit for flight.

“Pruning the Tree of Humanity” by Tyla Gabriel

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All Rights Reserved.

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