Once were trees

There are roots I’ve always known which wrap around my arms,

holding me deep inside the earth, breathing my breath.

As I gasp and try to see skies weeping beautiful

Purple drops of blood that soak into a distinct loam,

Drink heavily down into the perfectly filthy soil.

Those roots are me now, tightening fingers around my own throat.

As I push up daisies, sick weeds, tulips and then, a magnificent tree;

Barren of blossom or shoot of freshness but

Full of ancient life that reaches into the terrain that formed it

Dining upon everything I thought I was.

I’ve been held in this earth, this foundation of mighty life,

Forever. Never intending any creation or death,

It all came to me nonetheless. I look up again

At furious grey skies and I see a sun fracture clouds

Scalding the dampness upon my face.

My perdition suits this bondage,

I writhe and am held fast: Suddenly my eyes soar open.

I look between particles of dirt that feed me to the world;

I stare out and feel the breeze collect spores of me, scattering me,

Sparse, but creating new origins.

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