to the seed of hope

to the seed of hope,
planted deep within the womb of a woman who would sing.
her song will cultivate the promise of a tree
planted to absorb the filthy air and painful coughs of a groaning earth.
let the rain fall.
let the roots of jesse drink
and let the branches hold up
underneath the unbearable weight of warm sun and cool moon
and the pain they refuse to discriminate against.
to the tree of hope,
cut down and pierced,
a stream of vinegar flows into the pores of the earth
and drowns the roots,
disrupting oxygen, carbon.
choking, breaking.
our faces reflect in the pool gathered at our feet.
such is our hope,
that we are made of the same stuff,
broken by the same winds and storms,
and that we decompose together and our lives
blend into one, recapitulated,
with all the sickness and pain
and failure and uncertainty,
a sprout pries through humus.
a new tree emerges from the soil,
stretching toward heaven with stunted branches
and awkward growth,
digging into the earth
and becoming one flesh.
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