The Breathing Tree

April 13

The Breathing Tree

by Janice Negvesky

I think that
simply it may be,
My lungs are a living, breathing tree

They arabesque upon
themselves,
And reach over and under
Into a binded trunk
Heaving life from its branches
Into my thriving earth,

And that ground which eats the fruit my lungs
A tampered bed, made of flesh and bone
Becomes the soil my breathing tree needs
And through my soul, this it does receive

For as long as you steward thy land,
It’s leaves will keep on
dancing,
through a symphony of
winds

A hymn will keep on ringing,
Rushing
through to your hands
And that breathing tree,
Standing
proud and tall
Will be your fruit
If you will be its seed

 

If you have a poem of your own that you’d like to submit, please contact negrvj@blair.edu, kleinc@blair.edu, or ceramm@blair.edu.