Unbroken
Like tree rings each layer
speaks of galaxies,
as if the dusty breath of
stars had seasons.
With your own roots trailing,
you fold before this giant,
murmuring weighty
things —
it is a solemn prayer,
filled with bent and broken
branches.
As you wait for an answer
the wind
whistles through its fractures
so that
words fall like pebbles,
like laughter,
like leaves tickling your cheeks:
Love, there is only this —
give way.
We are each of us rooted
in a timeless light,
unchanged by the
re-creating.
Play with us.
Give way to the
circling
of unbroken things.
bearbones 
Oh Tricia, this one lifts me up. I am a devotee of redwood trees and this poem evokes them for me, with the enormity of the way their spirits mingle with mine and with all that is. You caught that in words. Extraordinary. Thank you.
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Melanie! Thank you so much for sharing this here.
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I always wondered if trees spoke to anyone else the way they do to me. I see now they do. This is so many layers of beautiful. Thank you for sharing it with us.
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Oh, thank you for this, Jennifer. You are definitely not alone — but I bet the trees already told you that. 😉❤️
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