Trees Mend Us

Poetry

The trees I do breathwork and meditation under in their winter splendor. (Photo: Author)

The trees that mend us
are tremendous
in their splendor
not mere timber
but here to help us
remember
that we’re not
so big in our britches

Their branches
stretching fractals
to the sky
skeletons
on backbones
called trunks
that ground them

Fall branches reaching skyward. (Photo: Author)

Surrounding us
standing in place
as we race
about our business
waiting for our return
they yearn for our
slowness, to notice
their wisdom
and to give them
appreciation
for creating
space within us
to breath

The trees
won’t leave
us hanging
by their branches
their leaves
dancing
in the breezes
of spring
fresh faces for
the world
to celebrate
Persephone’s return
from six months under
where we wondered
if winter would ever end

Cherry blossoms in Japan heralding spring. (Photo: Author)

But the trees?
They never doubted
for all that time
inside
they knew
that their fallen
autumn leaves
would be replaced
new ones sprouting
when the sun came back
Persephone on Mercury’s chariot
a message from the Underworld
which the trees
through their roots
remain connected to