Sacred Tree
Scissoring winds avenge her earthborn savagery
Branches recovering my instinct to climb,
Light penetrating my childhood woodland awe,
Crowned with delicate arcs
I spread my love of wooded substance
Praising horizons of silhouetted dawns
Rising above morning mists broad and firm,
Twisted and benevolent, cathedrals connected
Manifested in infinite complexion.
Rooted networks of wordless communication
I worshipped the earth reigning in her mythical glory
My soul born of her womb and wedded to her effigy.
She watching over communities of species, adorning dwellings,
Inhaling she collectively sighs at our detached human forms
Observing, indulging the naivety of our sobriety,
Chopping at her elementary heart.
As seasonal leaves come and go, she grows
Whilst various flavoured versions, us a people
Our blood stains the earth her roots would drink
Before our timely capacity to flourish
As rich narratives evoking ancient stories
Of fermented lives born out of the sun’s burdens
Upon etched chasms of a dark moon’s texture
In trunks of gnarly un-pliable fixtures, there we hang
Stories of our unsolicited lives upon her sacred boughs.
Copyright © Oliver Furlong | Year Posted 2018
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