Wood

"Wood". Arthur Rackman

“Wood”. Arthur Rackman

For this I have come to Earth?
To be wrapped in tree and root,
with winter branches empty and
clutching my shoulders?

How do I step away from fate?
Why must I see terrible forces?
How express my sudden horror
in this thicket of paradox?

What slight drips of color lead me
to my higher purpose,
when I am tangled and stilled,
when my speech ceases,
and the wood whispers
a tune I cannot understand?

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