BE

BE

NOTHING ELSE MATTERS

COMMUNICATION CONE FOR 2012

ConnectingPosted by E.M.M. Dols 30 Dec, 2011 18:27

Talk to me tree; tell me it is not too late

Why then my Cree would be to suffer

As silver figs when cut and carried

Tribes follow no single tragedy if not by fate

Salvare me, I offer you humbly my woes

In this soil I am singing making it moist

Sink me deeper blink if you see savior

I am trying to grow roots again but say nay

To my return, this forest has been winking

Its density is hardly pine yet reflections of winter

Keep me searching needlessly for its softness’ is in the stack

Splintered wood keeps on following my trail and track

This darkness, mine is leaving me spinning

Sometimes she is like Titus unwinding my beginning

Tell me tree, to which way do I keep?

Gregariously, time and place their wrinkles on my face

Greeting me here in the arriving

Light my entrance and exit send me a raven

To help me break my fall

In knowing there’ll be comfort for my blistered fingers

Since I’ve pulled the Phoenix from the fire

Rising Raven as my ally, her eloquence

I’ll honor every cry and take my fierce mask off

Wise with pain, my pleasure in defending

This territory can I reclaim my longing then?

Translate for me, tell me tree wills me

Remove the barriers and dig up my roots again?

Is faith a groundhog underground and does

The future store a tale of nightingale that speaks to me?

Carve me tree, make me transparency

Fine tree, I know I am asking for quite a bit

It’s in my name and standing here sincere

I seek wings good tree, so I can rest my case

Else, let me at least carry one of your own, a cone

I'll return home, not doubting the sweetness of your seeds.

Composed by Elisabeth Margaretha Maria Dols


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