by Michael Roque
A tree in itself breathes-
From the roots,
swallows rain from the sky.
Blooms flowers and fruit,
and in a billion crevices fosters life-
nests with birds, hives of hornets,
ants chewing-
thirty to a single leaf.
Within teepeed branches
from the tree of fruit and life-
the brightest flames ignite,
creating warmth in freezing cold,
roasting rawness into substance and taste,
sustaining will and body
through harsh winter days.
Gloom spreads when flames subside-
the deep forest dims.
Branches once in abundance
become hard to find.
Slowly-
glow surrenders to the embers
begging to create light,
and fizzle into a time
when insights are lost
from the outside.
© Michael Roque
Michael Roque (he/him), a Los Angeles native, now residing in the Middle East, embarked on his writing odyssey amidst the bleachers of Pasadena City College. His literary voyage has traversed continents, gracing the pages of esteemed publications such as Aurora Quarterly, Veridian Review, and CascadeJournal.
Find out more on Instagram @roquewrites2009.
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