Branches & Waterfalls

Life gives you breathers,
in midflight over the waterfall
you find a branch to cling to,
you sit there,
neither up nor down,
still in the line of fire,
in danger of being swept
to the rocks below,
but for the moment,
you're safe,

so you catch your breath,
let the hearbeat relax,
let yourself feel
for a few blessed days
that nothing has happened,
you start to feel good again,
smiles flow like hesitant waves
curling around a rock,

the branch begins
to feel like home,
a little small maybe,
but you study
the intricacies of tree bark,
the colors that fade
in and out of each other,
the knots where
twigs were born,
shuffle your weight around,
look at rainbows formed
by waterfall mists,
become entranced
by the view,


Waterfall Rainbow, Yellowstone
Photo by Gamaliel Masters

aren't we all on
our own tree branches,
seduced by
feelings of safety,
we shout reassurances
over rushing waters,
fling rope bridges
across chasms,
visit each other,
step gingerly
on bridges that sway,
and paste our nows
to an imagined
tomorrow,

we forget that
we're branch bound,
that soil gives way,
and banches break,
that we are on loan to life,
so let's hold each other,
taste our warm breaths,
inhale deeply and
sing wild love songs
in midnight darkness
under star shine
till the birds envy us
in their dreams.

© Zen Oleary
July 23, 2003