The Ono Lennon Tree.
In a deserted wood...there is a tree
....I will return alone today..but wary of the danger
Knife in my pocket...spray... sad day to live this way
But I will return to find that tree again...
..The path ...lonely twisting beauty
Snake winding thru the green..
My shoes are red
My legs are long ...I stride
October in the air. I cannot put the season in my pocket
But can be part of it...I let my hair become the mellow Beech leaves
Rustic glowing in that autumn light
I am happy here but would be happier without the fear
The universal fear ..the killer may be lurking
Women of Troy now..and thru’out the ages.
Perpetua. I am not brave like you..I would not draw
A sword towards my throat and die with dignity.
The measure of my courage small .. invisible
Does not match up Perpetua
I hold my puny knife...it came from France..it’s short but sharp
I doubt that I could use it ?
.. ferns damp and shady
I’m walking forward green to the shoulder
Looking for The Tree...no crackle at my heel just now
And I remember ... October 9..is John Lennon’s birthday.
A killer took him too.
Bent boughs ...the shapes no man or woman ever made
They are their own.
Tall rising trunks sky high elating
Up-lifting and up-raised
The tree..
Large plant enclosed in bark..
And standing near the plinking creek
Two rise up as one
And suddenly become the Ono Lennon Tree
Moss covered in unity.
..soft falling raindrops on my hood
Surrounded by the silence of the wood
I am happy here...but would be happier without the fear..
Kristine Byrne Wicklow
Oct 8th 2012