Paradigm shift
As a tree loses it’s leaves in mid july
Sun-baked, deprived of nutrients, and water-parched
He, too, begins his slow descent
They depend on each other, the tree and he
The tree, a child in arms, needs the constant care of he
To shoo the pests that would swarm
And feed the soil that does sustain it
He, in turn, is sustained by the fruits of its branch
Nourishing his will to soar
Basking in the arboreal splendor
Shaded from the ultraviolet death rays
the very same that, his protector, feed
leaves hit blades, green tears from its wooden glance
fuel to the ground that now holds it in a strangle
leaves hit blades, dry scabs flaking from its frail phalanges
baked golden brown and delicious by the sun, once food itself
unable to cry for its protector
unable to reach its massive arm, once flourishing, out to he that suckled
and ate from its branch
and basked in its arboreal splendor
perfect symbiosis
now he, no longer fearful of impact
no longer slave to the verdant safety dome
dives with abandon into the brilliant blue
no wing to fly, nor net to fall
an odd thing happens to those faithful leapers
when they abandon reservation
when they conquer doubt
when they discover their own ‘fuck it’ and just jump
eyes wide open into the azure unknown
believing when they are splayed on the awaiting blades
is when discovery and affirmation will reassemble the mess
and this, this will be that which they were always meant
they don’t all plummet.
He glides, slowly and steady as cardiac rhythm
Fueled by the sunburn, now his back
Cheshire expressions as he looks down on his tether and guard
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