Juniper Tree

Cherry

By onemorething

Sun, 19 Apr 2020
  • 2580 reads
11 comments
 

The parts of you that are unknown

are the most lonely, dark lesions 

beyond the reach of sunlight, 

the untold that gutters to silence 

across well-worn neural pathways - 

shame is hot and black smoke

and nocturnal. Shame flamed

into consciousness; the face

of a barred owl turned, alert now

from watching post, or a scorpion roused

from its daytime lassitude - all that you hoped

was concealed enlivened from their hiding places.

 

And when the solitude of it distills

to the purity of a dew drop of pain,

you eventually name it, 

             - the juniper tree listens,

               twists its bones,

               grips the green spines of your words

               so that what you reveal unburdens you,

               because nothing delivers you from isolation 

               like the freedom from a secret.

 

Image from pixabay. 

 

 

Certificate PG
Poem
Unclassified

Comments

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi Rachel,

just found the story of a woman who kills her stepson in order to prevent him eloping with her daughter, then buries his body underneath the juniper tree in their yard. 

I thought your poem was a great representation of the story, with the owl being the bird who tells the daughter the truth. Her grief being so bad that she hangs herself from the Juniper tree.

I don't know if the poem was based on that story, but it just felt so relevant.

It also looked like you got deeply into the mystery of this tree, which is so rewarding.

Great read.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Oh no! That sounds like a story I'd like to read, but haven't. Though perhaps it comes from the same premise - in some folklore, juniper trees can keep secrets, I'm sure I read something once about them being gossips too, but I hope not as I have been confiding in them for years. Thank you for reading it, Jenny. :)

 

Submitted by Tom Brown on

Amazing photo Rachel, fascinating, the harsh vast spaces and so very familiar.

Keep well! Tom

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Thanks for reading it, Tom. Keep well too. Rachel :)

 

Submitted by littleditty on

Loved the distilled ending - beautifully written :)

 

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Thank you very much! Though when I wrote my mind kept turning to the distillation of gin. :)

 

Submitted by Penny4athought on

A spine tingling poem, secrets hidden, suppressed from the light and the damage it can wrought within until it is freed. Your words are well chosen and beautifully written and takes the reader under in the dark passages of hiding that secret, until it is freed in a whisper to the juniper tree in the last lines.

I felt both the torture and the freedom as I read this because you've captured this human trait very well in your poem.

Penny4athought

Submitted by onemorething on

Thank you Penny, this is exactly what I meant, the damage wrought by keeping secrets that shouldn't be kept. Am glad that came across. Thank you very much for reading it. Rachel :)

 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

A fascinating disquisition about a tree of which I knew nothing about apart from its association with gin and one you have expressed with your usual eloquence.
I am much more enlightened now that you have revealed that it too feels the solitude and isolation and it will listen to us unburden our secrets and deliver us from our anxiety.

Luigi x

 

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Yes, trees are very good at listening, I think (in the slightly weird world that I inhabit, they are anyway!). Thanks for reading and your lovely comment. Rachel x 

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Thanks for the cherries. :)