I have put the Emerald Green to one side. Submerged— within the lapping tide!— Look now! Steadfast!— Stronger than the Ark's iron mast— Three angels approach above the water! Transfixed, I set my gaze beyond the Light. Shall we reside beyond that hallowed glow?
The presence of words spoken weighs heavily on these trembling hands I wish to take the clocks that overtook me and inscribe in them all the lessons and stories gifted to me by loved ones back when I was too preoccupied with tomorrow and everything I wanted to be When this world was all, I thought about and this life was all I could see Occasionally, I find a hollow breath and sometimes, it’s enough to fill these lungs as I soak this anxiety in remembrance Befriending grief and hiding from time walking home in a new day’s cold Shivers and chills, pulling apart my steps With aching bones and a desire to rest but forward and forward I go this time knowing, wholeheartedly, that seasons never last
How generous in winter The trees show us their bones Each birds nest high up exposed
They show us their ridges and edges Now barren of leaves and hedges Show us the bony way they trend upward Some perfectly straight Others leaning to one side Others with curves and dips Some heavy yet with thousands of whisper thin branches at their ends Others evergreen Others choking on ivy that has also shed its dressing Some revealing their seeds Usually cloistered in green Now touched by the wind By the birds that peck
For a third of the year trees are dormant Reminding one of a cheesy horror film Of Halloween Some so hunched, gnarly and comedic Really showing their personalities All brown and grey Or black against the sky of a new day Fuzzy outlines looking soft from far away Up close so harsh and jagged Some holding onto their dead leaves well into the winter Their lower branches sheltered from the winds power to lay them bare Shorter naked trees their protectors Wooden bone after wooden bone So comes the promise of springs revival From the dead of winter
These barren bones seem to whisper In the crackling wind See me, see who I am, see who I will be, for life is me and death is me I am a tree
It's a good time Hanging with animals, Because there is no social pressure. They merely love to live, That is their pleasure. There are no missed interpretations, No alternate agendas; Alive at nature's leisure