Quiet are the trees
That stand though tired
When on their knees
Their roots are loud
The leaves the bowing of the branches
The beating of the lightning crashes
That set their world on fire.
Across my back the heart attack
The fear that lends itself to hate
The need to throw myself away
To hide inside imprisoned fate
Built like a cage of gold
Rusted now the seed is old
And no longer feeds the bird
Awake is she remembers when she knew the shade of green.
That flew into a shade of light that made the forest scream
And when she woke and heard the sound of crashing like the thunder she hid beneath the sheets and waited for it to be over.
Like a child.
Quiet like the trees.
Gentle as the wind.
That hides beneath the leaves.
That opens up it’s branches
When it hears the sound
Of Mother Nature touching us when she rains her water down
That doesn’t have to hide when the storm comes
But stands against the thunder
She doesn’t have to run.
She isn’t in a cage.
Her story isn’t done.
She has to turn the page.
And the storm isn’t over.
She is lost in her own forest.
A child inside of me.
I am not afraid of thunder.
I am not afraid of me.
I am living in the shadow of myself invisibly
Allowing myself to be lost.
In the forest, like a tree.
Standing here, tired…..
Quietly.