Dying to Live

Feet crunching through the cobbled
Stones and gravel, I'm walking with
Those close to me. The great tree is in
The distance, once alive, now an eternal
Sentinel watching over us on our journey

We traverse the land, through forests, fields
Quarries and valleys, yet whenever we look up
The tree is always there watching over us. It's
Black branches reaching outlike the hands of a
Wizened old man seeking to comfort us.

We walk on and on, but we slowly lose hope.
One by one, those with me dwindle. One by one
They lose sight of themselves and leave the rest
Of us to continue on our own. We trudge on
Through rain, through sun, we trudge on.

Near the end of the journey, only two of us
Remain. She holds me in her arms as I hold her
In my heart. We finally reach the tree. Its wicker
Form sways in the wind, looking much in need of
Care. We stand, backs to the tree. We hold each other

Cheers and Waiting,
Healing Poet