A Poem for Grandma

a large tree falls over in the forest
a small corner of life realigns itself
shifts
Each branch of the tree is broken
by gravity, by other objects, by sheer force, by age.
The tree no longer had strong roots.
It could no longer take in oxygen

asphixiation

That tree was there before I was born
and I knew it all through my life
there were things I would tell the tree
that I've never told another living soul.
The tree breathed gently, lived gently
in the grace of god and
She told me always, quietly, gently
that I needed to do what was right for me.

One day I walked into the forest and
the tree was no longer standing.
She had fallen. Shifted. Redirected.
She lay broken on the forest floor, shattered remnants
of her beautiful branches
scattered

I did not try to pick her up.

I knew I could not. I knew in the deepest part of my soul that this was her broken end.

I asked her spirit to leave in peace
because I knew it was the right thing to do
I felt in my heart that my request was true
Yet no mortal coil shuffling
hurts more than one we've blessed

I have not been back to the forest
in over a month
to see her wood overgrown with new spring life.
I do not know what she looks like now
or even for sure where she rests. Perhaps she has been collected.

All I know is that my dear dear friend
is missing from my life.
I know a void. It has a certain shape, a certain size.
A certain voice and a way of certain embrace.

I am left believing it was hard for her to go.
The wind tugged at her weak roots and
her leaves had trouble
taking in oxygen

I did not want her to stay like that.

I am angry that we could not have fixed it.

In my grief all I have to give
is my hair
all I have is to live
my life
All I know are the words
to a prayer.