I Loved That Tree

I Loved That Tree

I sit upon my mother's arm
Whose majestic ridges never harm
Unlike a greenhead insect swarm,
Anyone who sees her-- their heart is warmed.

She is etched with scars
Because lovers can't let her be.
They carve their names into her skin,
It is the most terrible blasphemy.

She never quivers upon my weight,
She never shivers when the sun is late.
She always sighs when the wind blows by,
When the man with the saw appears, she doesn't ask "Why?"

My mother is nature,
I sit in a tree.
Her branches cause happiness,
So why do we do these horrible things to her?

I just don't understand.

A daughter sucks the poison
Out of her mother's wound.
The soil is polluted; where does it go?
To the one that emerged from her womb.

She searches 'til she finds the one—
The only one who'll help her.
We- her children- won't.
Someone comes…
My beloved ancient oak sucks the poison
From her mother's wounds.

She gave her life for her dying mother.
We wouldn't help, so she died for it.
We suck our mother's blood and fill her with our deathly poisons.
This cycle will continue
forever
and
ever
unless we learn.

Our mother thrives again, (no thanks to us)
But the skeleton of the beloved oak has disappeared.
Where has it gone?
It has returned to the eternal womb.

I miss her so.