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June 16, 2010
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The walls rise to greet me
The pathway seems so strong
The birds in the trees that have never seen me continue in singing their song.
The air is chill but the sky is clear
And the wind is dry and bites
The edge of my cloak tries to meet with the smoke of the fire i lit for the light.
But the time's already falling
Falling through the floor
Down the rabbit hole where there's no heat and far too small a door
To fit through in my predicament, the largeness of my head
So i listen to the birds sing and i learn to cry instead.

The bony trees stand crippled
Their leaves have long since gone
They're soaked in blood and grown in mud and never see the dawn.
There is no light that breaks
Over yonder hillside brown
The best it can do is idly construe that down is up is down.
Because the world is upside down.
Because the world is screwed around.
Because the sky is tainted and the canvas is painted with the industrial mechanical sounds.

So when my daughter asks me
-What is a tree?
I'll have to tell her why
The world is cold and embraces my soul like a thousand double-edged knives.

And when i remember all the days
I felt my heart slipping away
These moments lost in the branches of time
All my wasted, empty life
I can think of the trees and their idle giving
Life and the birds sitting in them singing
And the leaves that fell on my legs when i slept
Long in their lap, in their roots, in the soil
With the dirt between my toes.





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