The trees do not whisper my name in the voice of a billion stars.
The sun shadows my upturned face denying my gate
My cries of desperation, clinging to the echoing melody fall away
Dripping in autumnal colors, released from the iced earth;
A presence not present, to my dismay, but somewhere waiting to be unpacked
Unearthed from the cardboard grave where its been held hostage
By my unreasonable, childish demands, that I should not change.
The place my spirit abides is dark to me because I’ve become unplugged
I’m looking. I’m searching. I must find my outlet so my spirit can remember
So I can remember the laughter of water, the chatter of dust, my place in the Universe.
Tag Archives: trees
Dark Moon Reflections
Night time is a go
The midnight air is clamorous as crinkling cellophane.
The cranky crickets tick-tock in the grass with leggy chants.
The zz-zzt of the cicadas clamor boldly in jumbling rants.
The nearby expressway donates the rumble of trucks in lanes
trumpeting progress of deliveries unmet.
A flash of light shifts the shadows in the next room
as a car passes like a shooting star at the crossroad.
I open the door to feel the whispering kisses of the cooling air,
opened the windows to let in the songs of what’s out there.
The scent-dripping lilies stain the night
with mortuary perfume visited too often eons ago.
The click-clack of puppy toes traipsing laminate floor in the tone of wood
reinvent the solo of a long-hauler’s jake-brake slowing progress’ brood.
Barely audible, the neighbor’s open windows
bail laughter out in rapid chortles blended with giggles.
I smile as the humidity of their family
adds to the breath of life I’m inhaling with my senses.
Pass it onward!
Serenade of the trees
Wedgewood Park Afternoon
Through all my youth I didn’t learn the language of the trees
I couldn’t hear the words to the poetic songs they would sing for me
When I became still enough to listen to the music of the earth
I learned of transformation, regeneration, and rebirth.
What I didn’t know, while true to my childish indiscretions,
were the many truths I’d learned from them, the many rough hewn lessons.
My roots ran deeply through rocky soil, building bridges of emotional gaps
My branches raised up high with deep green leaves fed by spirit’s sap
I was taught the ancient tongues of the oak, elm, maple, birch,
embraced in laughing drumming beats the circumference of my worth
I am a child of the forests, although youth I can no longer claim
I will honor my tree kin’s body; their face; until the earth embraces me again.
Pass it onward!
NaPoWriMo: I, Tree
The north eastern tree
Brrrr! Yah nasty wind, ye stripped me clothes off!
Ye made me blood retreat from my trunk
Burying me roots in the frozzzzzen earth
Unlike the kiss of your wetted white,
I will return to shatter your deaf silence
With barbaric spears of buds piercing yer with renewed life
I will return!
The southern tree
Hey, ya’ll! Check this shit!
I was jist standin’ here by the sod of ‘his her road
An dis nassy smillin ting came at me bro!
Flippin me a nasty finger cut uppin der
Ya see that scar? Loss tree branches in a wind storm
Still stannin.
The South western tree
Wwwwwwaaaaaaaattttttteeeeerrrrr
Fuck you nestle
The north western tree
I am paramount to the indigenous people
That…HEY! Cut that…bad choice of words
STOP THAT! HEY! That’s my history! HEY!
YOU! LUMBERJACK!
TIIIIIIMMMMMMMBBBBBBEEEEERRR!
–thud—
The Midwestern tree
So ya see, I get used for maple syrup
Vermont thinks they have the major bunch,
But we’re really number one
Except for Vermont
The plains states, middle America
Come on baby! Let’s do the TWISTER!
Whoosh! Caught me a trailer home!
OH! And a car! Roll the dice, weather,
Papa needs a new pair of 18 WHEE!-lers.
magalyguerrero.com/napowrimo-with-magaly-guerrero-2015
NaPoWriMo
Mare Martell 