The Tree Surgeon

 


I visit the years in the looking:

sense green horizons

hear your voice on a falling leaf

stand proud where I sleep, sleep where I stand

 watch the moon’s hidden light swallow the fire of the day.

Make a choice to stay:

splash out water patterns to form words of grief

watch a dipper dance away from me

 light as air.

I visit the years in the looking:

see the cedar wrapped in chains, listen for its whispered dream.

 

There is fear in morning’s song

a storm of giants leaping from treetop to treetop

breaking branches the shape of a child

born of the belly-crevice at the base of the tree

a love passage lit by the sun.

 

Now:

 the cataclysm of earth screams:

the hurricane, tsunami

the bumble of the bee

the silence of the humming bird

fade to black.

Jean Rees-Lyons

Comments

  1. AngelinaFebruary 2, 2022 at 4:38 AM

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