My tiny daughter by the Elm tree.

“My tiny daughter stands by an Elm

tree;

The one that gave me vision.

A real Saul to Paul conversion.

.

Not upon a Damascus road,

Though

Still a holy site.

My parents backyard, and a tree

I’ve known for all my life.

.

Warm for January,

But cold enough for urgency.

The pain of staying the same makes for urgent awakening.

.

Another story about a tree,

Eve.

A confirmation of inner ugliness.

Every mirror, save one, confirmed this.

.

But this tree, she didn’t believe in anything.

Only now that I was willing

She herself whispering, “Take a look”.

.

Turn inward, turn around.

Like walking off a cliff, into unknown

waters.

Anxious

And uncertain how.

.

Then, suddenly courageous, and I swear –

It was something the tree

alone

could offer me.

Indeed now, turning around,

no longer blind

leaping –

.

From the furthest branch

of my self

back, back into the deep.

.

And what did I see?

God.

Goddess, if that makes more sense.

Not alone, but underneath

Everything.

.

A barren Elm, in the dead of winter

She taught me.”

— WRL, 1.1.18

 

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