Rising Sun

Rising Sun

Rows of oak
Swing over head
With branches and roots
Intertwining, embracing, supporting, destroying
Me as I walk through a tunnel
Of darkness and cold, where the star light
Fails to escape the space, to light my way
So I wander aimlessly, yet only one way to go
Forward is not an option, but the road I know
No time to stop and stare, at insect infested bark
Or fallen branches rotted from the inside out
For I look behind me, to see the sun slowly rising
Filling up my tunnel with a flame, my head, it’s where I can feel the heat
Where I watch the bright red orange show me the past
Until I realize a flame had been spreading
The first sign of charred oak lining the beginning
The first rows of oak slowly being digested
And the termites and bugs and trees they infested
Were erased from the path, erased from the past
The engulfing flame, destroying all which is evil
With each rising sun, I feel the needing to run
To get to the end of the row, to get out of the path
To get on with life, to stop living in my past.
So with each rising sun, I see more of it destroyed
And as long as I keep moving, I know I’ll be fine.