To Be a Tree

I could name that tune in three notes.
I could sit beneath a tree
And tell you all is well
And then
Like a loggers blade
Like a monarch’s sentence
Queens decision
Choosing derision
I could cut down your dreams
in one note.

For so long
I had no understanding
Of how I might wield that royal power
I shield you from
what I feel
And then try to tell you
While I fell you like a tree
I sing a harshness
Hard and starchy with
No harmony
No melody
I’m cutting down
I’m putting on my crown
I’m holding a scepter
While spitting out laughter
At your weakness
At some percieved freakiness
In anger I think that’s power
I’m danger for a hard hour

One question comes.
What stops me?

Trees are the reason
Trees don’t commit treason
Trees are inter dependent
Trees do not prosecute or defend and
If I were a tree
I would have the power
to store your secrets and mine
Our toes mingling
Stories and tunes
In the roots of our toes,
Where like ancient groves
who depend on one another for
Underground knowing
I keep your secrets and you keep mine
Not for fear of harm,
but for love.

I venture to say its good
to be a tree.

Lynette Hensley