Her: will I write? (THIS TREE)

I want to wish again for this tree, I told the full moon
May she find new nutrients in the soil where she’s planted
Despite the wretchedness-filled environment she’s grown.

I gaze upon the sky where swelling clouds are gathered around
I pray for its rain to fall in great abundance so this tree will know
Care and forbearance.

This tree reminds me of you
Nude in spirit; barren in skin
As though Love has forgotten the ways to bloom to give life
To a new tree; to a new you.

Your heart is like this tree
Only existing by the wayside
Unattended by others
Just growing but doesn’t really know her life’s purpose
Whether to bloom or to give fruits
To purify air or to just stand as a decorative on display.

Nobody sees your superficial beauty
Be that of loneliness or your quiet struggle
Never knowing when the beckoning of life will come to pass
Or if by meeting the harbinger of death can ever be lesser than cruel.

I ask the full moon if your trunk can make smoldering embers reach until daybreak when burned
Or will it die down at the instant blow of the summer wind. (?)

I wish for your heart’s tree to grow leaves; to fall in love again
The kind of wish that’s deeply spoken only in the midnight hour
Secret wishes of the heart to fall again, to know again; to taste Love again.

I wish for you to know blush once more
The kind of blush that stirs your stomach with sweet consistency
I want those butterflies to teach you laughter again, joy in your midst
I wish for your heart’s tree to wish for our long awaited reconciliation
Allowing us to grow fully, bloom gracefully; intricately.

May this renewal call us back into a loving embrace to kiss every false starts away
I wish for your eyes to see passion the right way; the slow burning kind
So no pitfalls can ever tremor your depths.

I wish to hear the voice of my Dearest Love
That sends a thousand jolly notes jumping into my eardrums
Whispering through, “Please drink of me.”
I wish for you to fall in love again
To have someone hold you in her arms; a safe place for your dying soul.

So take what you need and gather the sage
Let its smoke send this wish, a prayer and my comfort to your heart’s barren tree.


(Today’s writing prompts/inspirations)

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