Locked in Memory

Beneath the shady, thick limbs of the towering oak tree.

A soft, cool breeze dances across my skin.

Vibrant colours frolicking like ballerinas.

A single tree stands alone. Branches reaching out like open arms.

Longing for the touch of a familiar hand.

In the clearing, singing an aching plea, it whispers:

"Call for me, fight for me; for I need you."

A lone leaf lies abandoned, a single leaf left behind.

A fragment of life that once lived, thrived in fullness.

As I look upon it, I can't help but see a reflection of my own story.

I've known moments of strength, like the sturdy branches

that once held this leaf in place.

Fierce but still.

Silence roams, we mourn. Whispering, weeping, waning.

Murmurs trailing through the cracks of a fractured world.

Our world is not free, but feared. We cut down, we destroy.

We dig into soul, rip into the heart of our home. Disintegrate, ruin, reign.

The forest’s voice, a fading song.

In shadows cast, the wild is gone.

Locked in memory.