Wherever you stand you are at one with her. Simple, elemental, pure. Words, Ideas, Concepts; They are all meaningless… Or meaningful as you want; As present and real as the sky is ‘blue’ And the stars are pin-pricks on that horizon. I am that tree you pass by, You walk by, You sit under. Who's leaves you kick, Who's twigs you crack, Who's dappled shades obscure your view. I don't make meaning of my standing here. Not an energy centre, No symbol of love, I just am. But in order to just be, I need the basics. Substances and elements Which sustain me - YOU. And these you take, You change… All I can do is be Standing.

Shadows skim, Skin shreds, Strewn across The forest floor. Roots curl Over, Searching, Under, Seeking, Toe-tips of life Fearless in search For the science Of sustaining. Mercury - Messenger of the gods, Touches tendrils With a warning. The silver substance Slithers around, Seeps under my toes, And has a statement without rhetoric; Overwhelms the place I call home: We have control. Control of your soil, Control of your roots, We have control. Control of WHAT? Of my mother’s womb Which unasked provides all I need Without manipulation; What covernance is this? Unasked change To force creation, The mask of plenty Covering the greed. A war that will start with dried roots. Hearts of pig-iron Extracted that will never be Valiant sharpened blades, But will end in a slow demise. Death at the hand of cowards, Slow administration of poison; Intent to kill. The grass is dead at my feet, My foundations begin to erode, Nature’s building blocks Becoming hardened into singular objects At the hand of man; That speak of black and white That speak of narrow minds That show no compassion That can never truly entwine.

Pattering, Scattering of raindrops, Volatile molecules shifting in their cocoons. So seemingly innocent. Transparent purity. Apparently. Apparently bringers of life these newborn drops, But their contents are contaminated, Protecting an offspring addicted Unknowingly, Nauseatingly Hitting my fragile palms, Chlorophyll surrounded by veins, A thousand needles that should bring life and flow; The science of sustaining. But these points are not clean and full Of just the calcium and magnesium that you humans need. Acupuncture with acidic tips Drip, Drip through the shade Where they hit the soil, (Bare from strife, … (toil)) And into the depleted ground they soak To my toe-tips Which scrunch in shock From the S02 and nitrogen, That acidic concoction Burning skin, Singeing hairs, Xylem braced, Climbing … (stairs) I am that tree you pass by, You walk by, You sit under, Who's leaves you kick, Who's twigs you crack, Who's dappled shades obscure your view. I don't make meaning of my standing here. Not an energy centre, No symbol of love, I just am. But in order to just be, I need the basics. Substances and elements Which sustain me - you. And these you take You change All I can do is be - Standing. Osmosis. According to our dear friend, Wiki, is ‘the spontaneous net movement of solvent molecules through a selectively permeable membrane into a region of higher solute concentration in the direction that tends to equalise the solute concentrations on the two sides’. In other words; sharing. Water equal between my arteries And the surrounding mulch, But I have to filter out A concoction these cocoons Have bought to our doors. A mother I to take on Her teen’s newly formed habit. To filter and shield their need to believe There’s more to life Than Pie R2 and grammatical rules. To feel the toxicity they believe deserved To cover the mundane, The strain of unarticulated wants And needs And feels And pain. Being a tree I sense perhaps nature and biology is nurture in disguise? I don't make meaning of my standing here, and yet I’ve absorbed the poisons you’ve left behind. Nature, perhaps, at its prime.

The wind blows upon me, And I wait for the breeze to pass, Beneath my leaves, Where I breathe to help life last. Wind comes with the rain, Fire burns up the earth, Wind comes with the rain, Fire consumes me. Your stories a prison, As you lie in your dim, dark, past. My stems are made Of stars and accepting love. Wind comes with the rain, Fire burns up the earth, Wind comes with the rain, Fire consumes me.

Dried corpses Half-perished, Ripe for their cremation. Heat starts, Warmth wraps Limbs in flirtation. Crackling, Sizzling, Energy unexplained, Fingers surround, No longer a welcome glow But forced submission Against emission, Subjecting my mother’s home To more of the same. Poison in air, Parched ground below, Unsustaining, Uncaring, Undoing, Unsharing. And yet all I can do is be Standing As I burn from top to toe. And yet all I can do is be Standing As I burn from top to toe. And yet all I can do is be Standing As I burn from top to toe.