crouch before me young red maple

bend in the wind, never break

her frail strength raises me

her green moss fertilizes my growth

her leaves, 

withered leaves 

turn to me when it rains

shade me from the burning rays

she must endure to form deeper roots

i turn away

when she is marked for removal.

“You’re not anymore?”

her winds whisper to me

soft tales of all the times we’ve wept together, one moving creature

come near me

beautiful falling tree

let me rest against your seeping frame

let me be as lucky as to drink still water like you

teach me

let me dance beneath your mud and listen to the earth so closely 

how freeing

to have my roots exposed as thee