I Overheard the Prayer of the Lovers' Tree

Poem No. 179

I’ve been thinking, lately, about the ways in which the world carries us, and how little we seem to notice.

How she effortlessly bears the physical weight of us on our journey through the stars, and how — with considerably more effort — she bears the ecological weight of our ceaseless, careless activities. How she quietly holds us and provides for us, bearing our various burdens.

It reminds me of this poem I wrote a few months ago, after suddenly becoming aware of a scarred tree I’d never really noticed before, in our local park:

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I Overheard the Prayer of the Lovers’ Tree

If I must bear 
the permanent scars
of so many temporary affections,

may but one of these carvings
I hold in my flesh,
of hearts and initials, be true.

May I grow for a hundred
years in the sun,
and long be outlived by love.

And may my roots be strong
and reach deep in the dark,
so I may bear more than shade
alone in this park.

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Thanks for reading,
~ A

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