Shelter is Waiting

The springtide came without relief, floating,
for ennead months my heart was held aloft
like the bulbous morning clouds
releasing light slowly blushing,
on the edges glowing,
leaden grey underneath
the possibility of dissipation prayed for.

My voice, the summer winds
carrying seeds to grow
words whispered over currents
inside secret packages
waiting for torrential showers
to release their treasures held
sealed from potential destruction.

I, a tree, died in descent
my heart lost outer layers
received collateral damage on the way down
confusion leads to clarity
but not first without discomfort
roots pulled taut with pressure
new growth burning at the tips.

Twilight approaches, long shadows
stretched out behind me in trails of obscurity
blend into encroaching darkness
woodland merges into earth
retreat to lair of tranquility
where warmth radiates from within
and shelter is waiting.