Climbing Trees
I loved tall trees
with smooth bark
and branches stepped
like a spiral staircase
around a trunk.
These made
for an easy climb.
Trees whose tops
would bend in the wind
were best, you could ride
them out to the limit
of your daring.
There was a freedom
I found at height - all fears
were ground dwellers
and barked their fury
at the base of trees
unable to climb up.
I would stay high
in a canopy for hours,
riding on the soft lift
of a dream, far above
myself, the world
and its hurt.
Out of school I would
seek refuge in the lofty
solitude of a tree
and stay there
until I was healed before
coming down.
Now old, unsteady
on my feet,
I still long for a tall tree
and its healing height.
I have learned to look up
from the ground.
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