Birch…

Why do the vultures cry when it’s not their flesh ripping?

Water only takes shape in the container where it’s dripping,

I’m able to endlessly walk between rest and nutrition,

To sleep at night has always been our natural intuition,

Darkest hours weave in and out of the daylight,

Our future comes from others in the past we’ve yet to recite,

A birch to the legs to prevent repeated bad behaviour,

When you decided that I wasn’t derived from your lord and saviour.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

I saw the title and thought about trees, especially the birches outside my window. Then I was drawn to your posted artwork and poetic lines. My thoughts pondered especially on your final two lines, the violence and then I was reminded why I don't like organised religion. In my opinion, it has been the cause of more trouble than its worth. First of yours I have read. Thanks for posting.

Chris