Tree of Life
My life is a solitary tree.
A dead one.
One with massive, white branches
nude all over
like a newborn child but filled with wisdom.
My skin peels away, baring my core,
but I do not feel it.
My life is a solitary dead tree.
Lightening may strike
the wind may blow,
yet standing here in an empty cornfield
I am anything but alone.
In my branches, inside my core
is the beauty you seek:
Nesting cardinals in the crook of my arm,
A sleeping owl perched on my shoulder,
cicadas seeking shelter in my hair,
badgers nestling inside my trunk,
the field snake at peace among my roots.
My leaves have long since abandoned me
as well as life
but here I stand.
My life is a solitary, dead tree.
But beauty lurks within me.