Tomorrow

Tomorrow you'll take me.
Sever the ground I live in,
Cut the parts I've grown in.
Promise to bathe me in moonlight,
Yet I have no trust in beams.

Tomorrow you'll send me,
Net my arms and splinter fingertips-
Bruise my pines and watch me blink
In the brightness of the headlights
Whilst I'm carried through the dark.
Tomorrow you'll clothe me,
As Samaritans do wounds
And I'll feel the liquor burn my bark
As you stand me in the pot.

Tomorrow I'll watch you as you bring in the boxes,
Stack them high against the fireplace
And touch me with your eyes.
I'll feel the whispers of the skin
As I am dressed with gold and silver,
Reflecting light as I am known to do
When dewdrops lick my skin.

Tomorrow you'll crown me,
Raise the stars above my head and turn
The switch to light my body.
Tomorrow you'll leave me,
Let me wait for legend's footsteps
'till I feel him underneath me,
Laying gifts upon my feet.

I'll hear him- soft as cobwebs
But the spider nonetheless,
For his presence is surprising
And the children are his flies.
Tomorrow I'll be wakened by the first
Pure cries of youth,
Sending shivers down the breadth of me
And raising hairs along your neck.

For now though, I wait here,
In the shadow of my fathers as the sun
Tips its light towards the frost encrusted lake,
So that I may sleep within the winds.
As birdsong filters through my pines
I close an ear and halt the world.
Thinking of the time when I will be with you.
Tomorrow.