Fruit of the Poet-tree

My underlying belief is that
Bad begets good
And good begets good.
So when bad things happen,
I hold fast to the light
Like it is a branch in a waterfall
Rushing to hit bottom
At first my mind is tossed about helplessly
I am overturned and submerged again and again
But I turn myself right side up again.
Something in me resigns.
I exhale, see the Tranquility
That is the ground of my Being
And I know that no loss can shake me loose
From this tree that I cling to.
It is my Poet-tree.
And I eat of its fruit.