The Tree Must Cherish the Child

The tree must cherish the child that rises from the seed so long held upon the bough her every hunger felt and flooded her every subtle motion sensed until released she falls into the soil and emerges green her first leaf wet trembling delicate as a whisper caressing life then lost her infant root rotten her stem become dry she strives to breath for an instant suffers then passes cold before she can feel the rain upon her skin or hold the bird poised to fly or dissolve into the blossom’s sweetness I wonder does her mother weep her grief dripping from the bud withering the shoot contaminating all color grey all sentiment rendered brittle crumbling as she twists to evade agony’s embrace or does she rather lie in silence ashen aching for the darkness to devour all thought to consume all memory of warmth as dust descending through consciousness sinking inward until she sleeps the emptiness within sufficient to hold the shame in shadow though still she senses its weight drawing every passion into sorrow and when to awaken to set once more a flame to loss and burn and cry and sometimes smile for the beauty brief as dawn’s first fragile glow yet touched for a moment and in that moment loved