Trees.

It was delightful to
have sat in your presence.
You looked to me
like a collection of hands
set to protect me
from the sun.

I sat under your dancing
shadows
a pattern to keep me
mesmerized as it moved
with the light.

I looked through you
at your ever growing stature
hands upon hands
thick and thin
maybe protection
but the caution tape
stated otherwise
as if you could
come tumbling upon me
and I would be buried
under those hands.

A fate
to be envied.

But you do not budge
in such a way that could
break you.
You move as if you
are liquid.
Maybe you thought
I wouldn’t notice
but wind cannot
be ignored.

Your fingers danced
you swayed
reacting appropriately
to nature’s push.

I watched you
wishing I could learn to
find such peace in
movement
such fluidity
in response to a
change in direction.

And how her power
made your soul shudder
and as I watched
mine shook too.
Yet I was not so harshly
blown by the wind
as you.

Or maybe
I just never learned
to dance in her presence
as you dance
yet your roots
keep you still.

I have only learned resistance
such a firm grip
on the world below me
I never feel it
move.

I look as you
surround me
I wait for a piece
of you to fall in my lap
but you never do.

I don’ think it’s me this time
it just isn’t your season.

And then I leave you
because I can’t
hear over the noise.
My thoughts
constantly interrupted
by melodies
forced upon me.

All I want to hear
is your wind
for without you
she would be silent
given nothing
to move through
no one
to dance with.

And how you’re not one
to overreact
you sing subtly
only matching her push.

I leave
before your melody starts
again.

And now I sit among
another
but it does not delight me
as you did
it does not circle me
nor dance in such a way
that pulls my
eyes upon it.

This one is plain
but I’m sure it has a story
I just wasn’t listening
to its song
stuck on your melody
as I walked away.