mother tree

a poem about a mother's nurturing sacrifice

A charred tree sits at a mountain's apex,
A blackened finger against the horizon.
Born from the embers of emancipation.
Burnt branches and trunk still reaching
For the heavens, the source of her suffering:
The origin of her fiery release.

From lightning's determination,
Her ashes formed from ardour,
Calcium pulses from her core,
Magnesium, potassium, nitrogen—
A peace offering of nutrients,
The nourishing milk of existence.

Rainfall pushes through rock pores,
Feeding salivating saplings;
A feast born of her suffering.
Without her death, they'd be smaller,
These children who never knew her alive.
They thrive in the sweet water's swell,
Her legacy coursing through their smiles.

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This is a post from The Woman’s Rewilding Journal, a collection of writings by Zoë Paloma. If you liked this piece, please consider subscribing to receive new posts and support my work.

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