I dangle, Heart of Heaven, I dangle,
a bit of silver in a silver world,
a bit of green in a green.
No one knows. Not a one.
Not a soul knows. No one sees
this travesty of tree, Earth Child,
this insignificance a-dangle
living a life unseen,
silent, a grief unshared.
No one knows, Heart of Time,
this spangle of sky dress,
this miniscule flutter
pendant in the bright gold day,
this flicker of light
when winds blow and shake
to momentary vigor
the singing of these cells,
I breathe, my Breath,
in surrender to your tree.
Were I other, Text of Me,
other than an aspen leaf,
who would tremble
for the tree?
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