Withered Tree

Tree 1

Roots profoundly anchored,
Branches moving softly
Caressed by the breeze,
Creeping to the sky
Wanting to devour
The moon.
Yet this tree still remains
Well-tethered to the ground
Though it wants to fly in dreams,
Thirst of knowledge,
The Tree of Life and Wisdom.

She wants to be like that tree
And needs to be watered
With arts, literature, poetry,
Philosophy and intellectuality.

Why is that distant friend no longer
Watering her needs?
She misses that and feels an enormous
Life vacuum.
Intellectual and emotional.

First, the loss of her father who could give her
Many of these intense longings.
How she misses those long hours
Of prolonged debate and conversations.
And now this friend’s silence
Or, by her insistence,
His sharp, curt and unfeeling messages.

Why has the distant friend become a planet
Orbiting in a different galaxy?

The withered tree opens its branches facing the sky
With small hands
Longing to embrace that shiny moon of most
Wanted dreams.

Unrealized desire, sunken into
Profound blue emptiness.

Will that friend ever talk to her again
Just the way he once did?
There was a marvelous beginning when
Their getting to know each other involved
Rich conversation through emails and Facebook.
Long discussions on politics, arts,
Literature, philosophy and all that
Deep thinking.
Or was it just a product of her vivid imagination,
Of what she would like but cannot be,
Of a nonexistent person or
Of an existent person who
Doesn’t want to indulge in this?

The thirst is never quenched
As no other friend is like that
And so this withered tree extends its branches
Like little hands
To embrace a distant,
Who happens to live
On the other side of the globe.

Why are they so far from each other?

Reverberating echoes
In the mi(d)st of her loneliness
Almost drowning in the vastness of
Her life vacuum.

She wonders:
What are his responses but
Infinite silence that speaks by itself?


© June 2017 Marta Pombo Sallés

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