Trees Poem by Penni Currie

Trees, the memory of you.
The butterflies flitting together from flower to flower.
Your touch, so soft and gentle. Hold my hand.
Your laugh, so full of fun yet hides so much.
Smile for me.
Your eyes, always hidden, yet so revealing.
Your hair, so soft to touch, so beautiful.
Smother me in it.
Your kisses, so light, so sweet, so gentle.
Like the gentle brush of a butterfly wing
on the petal of a flower.
You woke me up.
Showed me what was inside myself,
what I had forgot.
You showed me beauty where there had been none.
I remember, and in remembering, I forget.
Music, time. Time for music.
Music is a great healer, and a great knife
to rip open a gaping wound.
I listen and I think of you, so many songs,
I think of you.
So many things make me think of you.
I love so much there is a pain in my heart.
You are blind. You do not see.
Too much of your hair is in your eyes.
You don't want to see.
I would tell you how I feel, but i'm scared of losing you.
I have felt this for so long, the ebb and flow.
First a zephyr, then a hurricane.
It blows me away.
Like a butterfly in a storm I seek shelter but find none.
Look at what is coming to be and what is passing away.
Focus on that which abides.
The runes say patience,
but I have been patient for so long now
I feel like a patient.
I need a doctor, someone to heal. I need knowledge.
I need to walk and look at the sky,
The birds, the butterflies.
I need to think of beauty, of trees.
For in trees is the memory of you.

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