The Cost Of Freedom Poem by Jennifer Rosario

Once there was a flowering tree
with roots that hammered the earth's core
(as generations come and go) .
A colony of leaves—
Dancing.
A magnetic beat.
Large hangings,
fruits of passion,
cling onto every nail.
Taste,
a mirage of hunger being satisfied
Thirst,
an oasis to an arid mouth.
Behind hazy glass panes
her hand extends its web
to grasp on to its earthly staple.
In a moment's time want was pleased,
as poisonous nectar slid down her cherry lips.
The earth cowered in horror.



Each colonist—
Still.
An eerie gasp.
The garden fell like desert nights
and fingers on cactus spines.
One by one each green and yellow soldier
cried on their downward march.
The flowering tree's roots withered to
a clump of peppered dust.
Floating fireflies dimmed their bulbs
As nature searched for light.
The passion fruit,
gnawed by pride's teeth,
fell to the hollow floor.
All around, foliage bent
like a serf to his Queen.
Roots travel far beneath the soil
for generations to reap and sow.