The Half-Cut Tree Still Blooms
Title written by Tunde Kareem
Art symbol of hope
Look at this tree.
Half of it is gone.
Axe buried to the hilt, wood chipped, sap dried like old blood.
Everyone who passes sees a corpse.
One man saw something else.
No calendar gets to decide you missed your chance. No date someone else circled can expire the open door. Opportunity does not run out on anyone’s timeline but yours. It waits—quiet, patient, ready— for the moment you decide to move….
sometimes you have to get up and keep doing what you know will get you further especially on the days you don't feel like doing anything. that's where you create a massive difference. your brain will understand what task must be done despite your emotions. wins start pouring.
I will hold your stories carefully.
And when the world rushes you,
I will remain steady beside you…
because I understand how seldom we are allowed to simply breathe.
I think I carry an old soul.
I am moved by quiet things —
the way light softens at dusk,
the weight of a genuine kindness that asks for nothing.
To be close to me is to value substance over spectacle.
Yet even then, I will still see the beauty in your everyday.
No individual is bigger than an institution. No matter how important you think you are, no matter how big you think you are, you can be replaced by anyone.....
Hard work plants the seeds and buys the tickets, but luck decides whether the rain ever comes or the winning numbers are drawn. Many fields stay dry no matter how deep you dig, and the graveyard is full of hardworking people whose luck never arrived.
New month, same responsibilities. Being a son, brother, husband, and father won’t suddenly become easier. The bills will still come, expectations won’t disappear, and recognition won’t arrive every day. Real strength lies in waking up, grinding, and showing up. That’s the game.