The Key
I held it in my hand
Sure of it.........
Then walked to the tree, said
This tree looks like it has hair
Went back to the house
Lost the key
My hand
Looks like a tree
What are the keys we need to go forward
Or to hold onto the things in the past
Which hold us to a place
Make it sacred, make it defensible
I am leaving here
I will not return
I have been holding on too long
To the key to the door to what lies inside
The tree has told me where to go
I must listen to its breath
The ocean within its core
A depth unlike the safety of home.
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