Tampa poet Unspoken has the 'Blossoming Branches' of orchids and apple trees on his mind

“Blossoming Branches” juxtaposes orchids and apple trees, showcasing how the “ugly and gnarled” apple tree is stronger than the more beautiful orchid, forcing its way through the obstacles in its way so that it can grow to take root and bear fruit.

It’s a story of perseverance, using the apple tree as a metaphor for how we can grow past suffering, becoming stronger and providing wisdom and support for those who come after us. It’s meant to illustrate that while we may not be as appreciated as the delicate orchid, our scars have a proud beauty all their own, showing the world that despite all it had to throw at us, we stand tall, protecting those in our shade.

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Blossoming Branches
By Unspoken

Orchids blossom in the spring.

They’re picked out as seeds
and meticulously cared for;
they need that care
from the moment
they’re planted,
so that when they blossom
they’re delicate, and untouched
by the harsh world around them.

If they don’t get
just the right amount
of water, they die.
If they don’t get
just the right amount
of sunlight, they die.
If they don’t get
just the right amount
of love, they die.

But if they’re cared for
juuuuust right,
orchids bloom and brighten the world
for a little while,
until they start
to fade and wither.
Soon the beautiful orchid
that demanded all that care
is gone, leaving behind
only the memory
of the beauty it used to have.

I am not an orchid.
I’m not much to look at
because my seed wasn’t planted.
I was thrown onto the ground
and pounded into the dirt
until I cracked and bruised,
surviving off of the smallest streaks
of sunlight and dew drops.

Still, I grew.

I stood my ground
and grew my roots
until they stretched out around me;
until I stood tall above the flowers;
until my branches reached up towards the sun.

Still, I grew.

Ripping rock and crushing concrete,
I forced myself
through every crack in my way,
taking root and taking a stand to say

“I AM HERE!”

I am an apple tree.
Beneath burlwood scars
and breakaway branches,
I stand strong;
and when those branches blossom,
it will be with the fruits of my labor;
apples grown
and full of knowledge
for those who come next.

I am an apple tree,
plain and ugly and gnarled,
yet I grow taller and taller still;
keeping safe the orchids
that grow at my roots,
blossoming in my shade.

For National Poetry Month, Creative Loafing Tampa Bay asked Dennis Amadeus, who leads The GrowHouse Collective based in Ybor City, Florida, to help us reach unsung poets. We asked them to write about trees—any trees—and they responded.

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