Published January 13, 2014 by Amy Elizabeth

I have a way of working things out
And it starts with a tree.
You dig down with the roots
Like you’re going the wrong way,
While the creases in your hands can taste the dirt,
And your sturdy ground
Begins to fray.
But when you get far enough,
You reach the heart of where you’re heading,
Where your problems are no longer seen.
You can’t feel them forming into your solutions foundations,
But believe me, that’s why they’re there.
To hold you upright when the wind decides to take your most important breath,
To pull you back down to earth when the gravity falls from beneath your feet
And the only sense you can see is amongst the stars;
So you stay put.

And then you grow upwards with the trunk.
You pack everything you have
Into a space that is already dense,
A waiting room that is already full,
Because none of the doctors are in today.
And you rely on the solidity of your own self,
To not collapse in on itself,
To hold your world as it ages with wonder,
To hold the secrets of every part of you.
As the sap is the tears that carry you through,
You feel.
You let it wrap round you like the blanket you had as a child.
And the leaves begin to whisper.

They rustle your hair
And the sun shines through them
Like it’s peering into every thought you’ve ever had,
And every branch becomes your mind,
Covered in a million new thoughts,
Each of which you take the time to memorise,
But barely recognise.
And as the sun rises above your head,
You see yourself from the ground below.
And the you that’s underground,
Emits the sound
Of a life you didn’t know you had.

And so what, if you wanna open up like a flower when it tastes the first drops of spring,
And feel the first breath your heart took
As you fell to your knees,
Because all this bark is a part of you,
Every leaf falls off its branch,
But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth it,

Because your life is beautiful.


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