I’m what remains of this day. Not the cemented ground around me. I pause and sway but remain a forever presence of life that was once all around me.
You walled me in. You closed me in. You broke me. I hang in the name of creative canvases in frames. All this building and breaking and lost cold shattering rain. I still remain. I’m standing in the glory of dirt floors and rock out walls. My glory shines inside roots and puddles of blooming light. Ants walk inside and outside dancing inside and outside of me.
I’m standing alone but among many. I’m swaying and pausing but remaining. I give while not taking, I’m seen but not forgotten.
Crying and missing while my branches are breaking, feeling warms things and smoke things that cloud eyes and senses of mother nature.
I’m this tree of what remains. I’m this tree.