Shortest Tree

Let me be the shortest tree in the redwood forest, we couldn’t enjoy it otherwise.

I step into this home made of life

Admiring the moss and lichen artwork

As I make small talk with slugs

I will be filled with freshly made air

I know the world you want me to exist in

That place is too cruel

Don’t bring me home

Bring me here

This earth is gentle

It will rain without cutting to my bone

Or tearing off my skin

Even when it screams

I am taken care of

I am held

There are no harsh words

As the sun penetrates my skin

No one will ever tear me apart again

Even as I decompose

Don’t bring me home

Bring me here

Let me sit in this non-stop background noise

It is not noisy

Still, I am safe

And even in this moment

When the dirt and stars

And birds and trees

And this earth lets me forget

The world can be ok