TO BE LOVED / poetry

XIV

A LONG PRAYER TO A TREE | 13.11.2019

stop walking.
look, here, to your far right — and come close.
the pressure on your shoulders can wait.

in the distance, the moon catches itself
in my branches and brambles
(silly, like fishing nets, and a hook;
you think you've heard this one before).

when your bag drops,
your knees touch ground and grass.
i rustle to shake some blossoms;
now you bleed purple,
unfurling from the crown of your head.
you do not glance up —
no use for the skies, it seems.
the birds in my nests all fly away.

the brown of the earth,
imprinting on your fingertips.
i wonder why you look down,
until i see flattened palms like upturned prayers,
shoulder blades arching like parentheses;
and i understand.

maybe you wonder how a tree can be just a tree.
maybe you wonder how the inside of a lung seems to keep branching off,
keep splitting into more of itself
the way my roots diverge only to dig into soil.
how a human can be like a tree.

somewhere, a quiet church bell tolls;
there is no one around to hear.
we ignore this sound.

i gather wind and shape it into words.
i tell you: put your ear to my ground.
hold your breath for four seconds;
and then listen.
listen close, and let your heart breathe.
let yourself be a little more at ease.

because, you see — all trees tell you of growth,
and how it isn't the heights you reach,
but how steady the roots.
so we may bend and sway some days,
but may we never break.

____________
a/n: sometimes the healing is harder than the hurting. always try your best to be kinder, softer, gentler to yourself. ground your roots, and your flowers will follow. love yourself, and the rest falls into place. x