maelynslavik

Slender limbs fan out,

Parallel to the sky

Instead of reaching,

Wanting to be the open blue,

Accepting that

Though the tree will never

I’m sitting beneath a tree, 

Tangled 

In the roots, 

My fingers gripping those 

Of each soil-soaked tendril 

I want to breathe 

Both with looming skyscrapers, 

And mountains stretched high, 

To feel the sun 

Smiling on my skin, 

A bird chirps

Along with morning's song,

Humming along

With warm beams of light,

Letting out calls

Merging with yawns

As arms stretch

Along with uncurling wings,

Reaching for a morning hug,

Breeze ruffles

Through frills of grass,

Little green blades

Getting trampled again

And again,

Still rooted

In the soil,

I walk past a wall of pictures, 

Some bright, 

Some black and white, 

Some dull but still rich, 

Paper crinkled, 

Wrinkled from the fast-paced 

Rain of time,