Here for You
July 5, 2022
My name is Ash.
You might think by my name that I am dry, leftover.
Just remains, gray and dead.
Don’t be fooled. I am anything but.
Do you know how deep into the soil, soul of the earth,
my toes stretch?
How they tiptoe out, close to the stream
drinking in clear water
holding tight to the bank so the soil doesn’t wash away?
Can you see how the sassy squirrels scamper
and sky birds skitter among my arms,
seeking safe places to store tasty seeds
and to settle a family?
I welcome all. I welcome you. I am the Tree of Life. Eternal.
I see gray clouds shape-shifting,
tossing roiling boiling
Sharp stabs of rain pelt my skin.
Thunder sends my green cloak asunder.
A bolt a jolt strikes, electrifying me from my crown
down to my feet.
What is left?
I am hollowed out, barren.
My heart still beats at my center
midnight blue and blushing rose.
I am still here wearing a crown of new green.
My toes still stretch out
to the stream pulling life-giving water up up up,
reaching far to touch the toes
of other trees grasses flowers,
sharing secrets warnings and hope.
My arms are strong and my fingers tickle the sky
beckoning, holding life spaces
for creatures of our Earth home.
I am still planted firmly in the soil soul of the earth.
I am here for you. Tree of Life. Eternal.