The Holiness of Trees
She lifts her head to the sun
Opening her heart to a breeze-
Her arms shake in delight of wind
How many breathes in a lifetime has she
Before being Christened by fire?
Sacrificing her life protecting others,
That which choses to escape, surrendering
Vulnerability and strength, holding fire at bay.
We blame her as a disease, for what seems like Mother’s rage—
Where would we be without the nourishment of trees?
We breathe their breath as they transform our air;
With trees, grace is our hope and our destiny.
Dancing, burning brightly before us
She carries our shame-
O Holy Shaman, Asherah.
Burning of a deep smoky penetration into the forest,
Capturing death, repulsing living breathing organisms.
Escaping terror, finding Red Cross compassion and care,
In our modern drama of trauma- shocked yet grateful-
We cling to each other in tender desperation.
Breathing the air that still pervades, under the smoke-
Under our best neighbor- a tree, shelter for our soul.
Finding peace in the resonance that gives us water,
Memories and tears make the clay of tomorrows art;
Our hearts are full in gratitude, bitter with remorse.
When it becomes time to take up our maker’s tools
We find that our best support comes from trees,
Rebuilding our dwelling for rest and life;
What do we turn to besides the clay that creates our building blocks, adobe?
But those who wield the tools that they use to build the wooden reframing,
Continuing our lives with trees, we rebuild our hopes for a more stable existence;
The panels of patience, within a sanctuary of tables and chairs, gladly
Preparing repast in which to celebrate living, the ultimate fruits are the
Beauty of the earth, and our Mother who provides trees for sustenance;
Crowning the sanctuary of our dreams-every night we find rest in our spaciousness.
Wandering in our graciousness, happiness comes as a way to know
Each other as friends, our time to grow strong in love again.
