poetry

Mother Tree

I’ve gone to the meadow today
like a hundred times before
To shed my hardened anger
And let my spirit soar

The soft winds whisper sweetly
Through pine boughs from up high
A red tailed hawk has taken flight
Red-gold against blue sky

The pine’s arms brush the musky earth
She bends her emerald head
And beckons me to crawl inside
Her perfumed evergreen bed

The tree and I sit, back to back
My blood and her sap
I breath and she sighs
I melt into her lap

—Kimberly Nash