Forest From My Ache | 2.22.21

Never expected a forest, never even thought a single tree would sprout. I’ve been planting words like seeds all my life, water them once then walk off, forgetting that some growth happens without any additional help from us. Forests now, I see them for what they are, little sprouted villages of green and reach, scattered by the winds of time, technology, of love. You, you were the winds and the breezes and the breath the carried these seeds, you were the water that kept falling on the upturned earth, without me noticing for so long. You were the sunlight, you were the shine, you were the forest fires that kept it all green. Words grow, living things they are, and we never know which lands will be blanketed in forests when we’re done, we never know if somewhere, someone will draw air from their limbs.

These were aching words, still are if I’m honest, as I am an aching soul. I was born as this, I will die as this, I will probably start over again and feel it still. These trees are hopeful trees, but they give off a lot of shade. Wherever you are, breathing below them, I hope the oxygen they give makes you lighter, I hope it slows the rise and fall of your chest, I hope it makes you feel whole, if for a moment.

Tall trees from poetry, but it took your wind to make them spread.

Words like branches grow,

tall trees from this poetry.

Forest from my ache.

Haiku on Life by Tyler Knott Gregson

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