Reverence to Life

I saw the rope
Innocently blowing gently against the silver maple trunk
root bound on top of the concrete
It is what its forced to do

But no complaints come from the tree
until the wind blows
starting slowly, gently, rocking
to and fro
lullaby for finches
and chickadees,
who fly around in a buzz
scrounging for their supper

Alas, I have gotten off the subject
of my suicidal discoveries

I saw the rope
and cut it
but it was tough
cotton, old and covered with
a film of moss

as I sawed the salvation
to my suicide
my arm began to wear
such work to off one's self
why all the bother?
there should be an easier
way
or at least a less dreadful
effort to send the soul to the
other side.

Finished.
The rope is now cut,
the curious dangling rope is
but a stump of a rope
still attached to the Silver Maple
forever, soon to become
swallowed up into the abyss
of organic life.

My thoughts of giving up life
by using the rope
is now being taken by the life force of
the Silver Maple
forever being locked up to be found
by some palenentolgist from
another galaxy
exploring Mother Earth by a
future being.

Even in death, life continues
in perputual motion
forever and ever.
Only dust becomes us
and in that moment
it ceases to be just a particle
but nothingness.

Reverence to Life



Angela J Looney