A shadow stands beneath the tree
Pointing at its heart.
The Other lies in a puddle
Of blood on the forest floor.
There, the shadow begins to
Merge with the tree; going thin,
Wide, spreading inward, leaving
The body on the ground to its
Own sad fate.
The shadow raises its hands upward,
Fanning them like leaves; its black
Skin becomes rough, porous,
Joining the roots that splay
Underneath the soil, reaching and
Seeing those invisible kingdoms.

There, with an intuition of its
New life, it forgets shame,
And hatred
And fear.
It wants to give up its shadow
Ways, and live a new life,
A pure life;
Simple being,
Never hurting another thing.