Tree

You are chained securely,
To the mother of your birth by history
Wrapped in molten brown skin
Battered senseless by opposing forces

At times your finger print
leaves indelible marks
The envy of individual nations
which have come after you

Stripping you of your
jewels and crown

Yet you stand firm, immovable,
solid,
Iron In your chemistry

Reaching high for clouds
Precipitates, your growth
Which cannot be checked

And after all this, the angels
Which rest on your limbs whisper:

We will teach you to fuse into
The freedom of the air that you breath.

Sean Benjamin 2006