The Very Hereafter
What if we selected a solemn tree, un-forested.
As unseen and untouched as possible.
Walked around the trunk a minimum of four times.
Fell to the ground and spoke our secretest words
into the ear of last year's leaves, palms down.
Traced the hinting of roots, sunken deep, hidden.
Sensing meanwhile, cloudbursts soaking bark
the moment we were born, thirsty for the sun.
A ring within capturing the urgency of our parents.
Believing! - as we circled this tree, that we beheld
the very hereafter.
Would we be dishonouring religion that preceded us?
Or the tree itself, which will outlive us, likewise.
-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2014 --
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