A Cry Of The Potted Plant

A Poem By Taylor // 6/10/2007

Plant me near the ocean
so I can stand beside the sea.
Find a barren hillside
and take me there, if it needs a tree.

Let my branches brush the clouds
like a baby's arms that rise
to touch a father's face.

Find me a hole that only I can fill,
and capture the sky
in a star-fishing net.
It's my only limit, you know?

When I stand my full height,
unashamed to be strong,
don't top me off like other trees
that rose too high above the rest.

Carry me to a place I can stand
without slouching for fear of being tall,
where in eager expectation,
the smouldering embers glow and wait
and yearn to burst into flame.

Let me alone to rise from the ashes
left by my fathers
and soar on the wings of the wind.

Written February 22nd, 2007


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