Shua

Shua

 

I tried to wrap my arms

‘round a hundred year old tree.

My head pressed to her heart,

I wonder what I’ll be.

 

Will I grow to see the sun,

And live to see the stars?

I don’t believe I have tomorrow

As I count invisible scars.

 

Slipping to the ground,

I trace the travels of her roots.

Across the ground, fingertips feel

The twisting, mindless commutes.

 

Was she reaching for something

Beyond where she stood?

Did she get what she wanted,

Did it do her any good?

 

I wish I could hear her,

Is she screaming to be heard?

Or is she silently defeated,

Swaying movements replacing word.

 

Marking her rough, winding spine,

Healed wounds wind their way.

With each swing of an axe,

I wonder, did she pray?

 

As I sit in her shadow,

I close my eyes and rest my head.

Thinking how strong is she

To have been cut and yet not bled.