The Smiling Tree

Would you like to see the Smiling Tree?

The one who stirs your hidden beasts?

She butters your bread,

weaves your beads,

as you fall to your knees like a priest.

Her many eyes beam bright, cutting through glass,

a smile so sweet it breaks the past.

The only one of her kind

for miles and miles,

her deep roots reflected in the mirror of your restless mind.

We stroke her bark,

the soft, bristled skin of stars

and feel the spark that hums beneath her scars.

“Return,” she sings, “to whence you came.”

Upon her moss-green altar she waits,

slipping secrets from the edge once again,

like honey

into

your

thirsty

mouth.

But only when you’re tamed.

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