Honoring of Trees
My beautiful trees.
Forked birches here beside me
deep within Fairy Woods.
Others of you up the road.
You, who years ago,
formed a stockade fence
inside my brain
to keep me sheltered from his advances,
his ridiculous lack of integrity,
his crossing of the line
too many times too often.
You set yourselves up
within the cavity of my skull,
each of you giving of who you are,
my own staunch army
preserving my sanity
for those long weeks.
I acknowledge each of you
who stepped forward
to be my loyal minion,
who joined together,
trunk to trunk, in protection
so my brain would not scream out,
running in abject terror,
so all of me suffering so deep inside
could clamp my awareness instead
on the barrier of your solid strength,
the power of your presence,
your benign spirits
vowing to keep me safe,
and the knowing you were here for me
and would not leave,
would not forsake me,
until he was gone.
Only then did you break apart
and come to me again as simply trees,
the living, breathing trees
who have been my friends all these years.
You returned to being
sisters and brothers,
as you wrapped your gentled branches around me
to hold me again and again.
Great-Grandmother Tree at the Lake.
Shaman Woman Tree and Hawk Woman Tree
on the way to the High Beaver Pond.
My Seven-Trunk Tree growing up.
Grandmother Great White Pine in back of the house.
All others of you quite simply and gorgeously
the trees who have helped me become who I am
these 37 years.
You let me lay my hands upon you
and hear your words.
You touch my heart.
You salve my spirit.
It is all of you I want to honor
in this piece I am creating,
and that at last today—
the painting of you finished--
I believe I have.
Every single one of you:
I honor you.
I thank you.
I am so grateful for the blessings
you never fail to give me.
Sometimes we just have to speak what is inside us and take the risk to share what we have to say.