Saturday, May 15, 2010

My Tree

My Tree

My roots
Grow carefully past stone
Through the core of the world
They reach to the other side of me

My trunk
My own
Stands gracefully, a home
Under the moon and the sun
Grateful for a shower or the promise of one

My branches
They bend
Sway sweetly in the wind
Moving in every direction but down
To the sky they reach, ever further from the ground

All that I am are the three of these
I care not for my flowers, my sap, or my leaves
Though pretty and sweet and colorful for sure
They are fleeting and nothing more
My roots, my trunk, my branches: My Tree
(The bird that perches there when she's not flying free)

Come sit on my bough
Come swing on my swing
Come live in my house
Your axe you may bring

Swing your axe all around
My tree will not be brought down
Swing your axe all around
My tree will not be brought down

When your strength has left you
When you've grown tired from the fight
You can rest up against me
Take leave of the night

When again you feel better
When you've risen from your sleep
You can sit down beside me
Take a moment to weep

Take as long as you need
Take as long as you need
Then bury your axe
Take as long as you need

Bury your axe
Bury your hate
Bury your habit
Bury your gait
Bury your skin
Bury your face
Bury your past
Bury your race
Bury your burden
Bury your sorrow
Bury you yesterday
Bury your tomorrow
Bury your want
Bury your greed
Bury your doubt
Bury your heed

Deep down in the dirt leave all of these things
Wait out the winter, look toward the spring
Don't waste the summer in dread of the fall
Grow a tree of your own, a tree for us all

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