I stand like a Tree
surrounded by City.
Harsh, cold concrete binds my roots!
I shift uneasily in this
While the fumes from the constant stream
of snarling metal beasts
keeps me from breathing deep.
I find it only brings the despair and anger
of the City deeper into my Heart.
I fear the awesome bite of these gleaming brutes,
from their Masters and Mistresses…
The Walkers, the Pourers of Concrete,
the Lost, the Despairing and the Murderous…
The Wind runs wandering fingers through my emerald hair.
She’s trying to comb away some of the worry and thoughts
that lie so heavy on my head in these troubled times.
With a sigh, I turn my face towards the glittering Sun.
I dream of a time
when the Air was not thick
with the accumulated sludge of raw emotions;
A place where my roots can hold tight
to Mother Earth, without fear…
or imposed control.
No walls of iron, no poisoned elements…
Somewhere free of this constant assault,
And the torturous erosion of overwhelming Misery!
Beauty of the day and Dream
I cling to the moment,
And dwell not on the coming of the Night…
Like a Tree…
Surrounded by City.