Maybe Elevated

There's a giant oak outside my window, ancient tree,
A tattered hulk a thousand storms have set upon
To tear its leaves, to break its branches. Nonetheless,
It stands before me, lush, possessed of dignity,
As I look out, bereft of both, an arid presence,
Humbled, forced to kneel before what rules me:
The pain, unending, searing thing, issuing
As messages from joint to brain,
From brain to soul. If I can suffer this
Connection, if I can embrace the sense
That suicide is not so much a sign that I
Have failed as it is sign that I've seen
What I am: a creature whose life's
Not worth much, my ashes might be
Elevated, lodged within that tree.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 52 times
Written on 2018-05-13 at 02:39

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text