In September,
the trees teach me again
That the slow undressing of my soul
before resurrection
is a
bedtime ritual.
If I live as a forest does,
clasping hands under the earth,
drinking sun,
making homes for others,
my death is
temporal.
Everything that is beautiful
reminds us of
the savage inevitable loss
and the trees convince me again
that everything we lose is
worth knowing
worth seeing
worth being
We own nothing,
rooted and reaching.
We become
naked and spacious,
every leaf
a fallen kiss.
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love it !
Beautiful 🙂
*sigh* Having only met you for two days years ago, can I miss you this much. Thank you for these words.
Awww, *blush*, thanks for your thanks and I’ll write poems in your direction any time…
Yes, beauty and loss! Here in the south the rather fast donning of clothes is all around us! The way she puts on and off her clothes you would think our natural world was a witch! 😉
I love your poetry!
Fabulous ravyn
Your words shine brilliantly in the dappled light of human conciousness…xo
Thanks, beautiful Rachel!!!
Thank you for sharing your creative spirit and deeply touching my tree-ness
yes. blessing distant Friend. and love.