Safe Haven

There’s a sturdy, majestic oak tree,
Found deep in the thick woods.
Two hundred years old,
It stands like a wise man
Surrounded by young souls.
She runs to it
And grabs it’s trunk,
Beginning her thousandth climb

As she ascends
Her falling tears land at the foot of the tree
Watering the centuries old roots
With vibrant waters of youth.
She finds solace in that;
At least her tears are of worth
And as she sits there,
Perched on the lowest branch
She’s struck once again by how right she feels;
How perfectly she fits in the curvature of the branch

Her harsh breathing begins to calm
And her racing pulse steadies
She closes her eyes
And feels the breeze on her face
There are birds chirping up above
The melodies of which soothe her anger, her angst
She sits for hours on end
Perched in serenity

Until the sun sets
And the stars shine bright
When she must detach herself
And descend back to reality.
It breaks her heart
As she hesitantly makes her way to the clearing,
And turning back one final time
Mutters a prayer of thanks for the oak tree
And the peace that it encompasses;
Her safe haven.

Nyamedo