The Tree's Grieve

An Ancient Mythic Collaboration Part 1 A

Audio read by the amazing Fiona Bridges 

At the alter of the earth
amidst the rancid and perishing days of dark winter 
are mirrors of crisp ground undisturbed 
and bare branches crying for comfort 

Footsteps echo 
like those in vast marble hallways 
filled with the ghosts of time 
but softening under the warmth of human presence 

The trees stand in grandeur 
like Corinthian columns 
where the hand of man and flowers 
decorate the stones masculinity 

Placed in breakthrough rhythm of 
hope and prosperity 
these trees tell the tales 
of spirits buried here. 
We are blessed amidst them
as we walk amongst Gods hand in hand, 
yet the air is foreboding 

And so are we 
For in this room of rapture, and spirit and stories 
Is the awareness of love lost 
Lust lurking in the air heavier than moistened ground 
rotted down with leaves and guilt 

Slashing back branches whilst inviting my advances, 
you pin me to the trunk, tethering my wrists with retribution and rope, 
it feels paradoxical to be shackled 
as you free me from the trappings 
of the life I leave behind 

I find myself half-dressed 
but suitably impressed by your desire to abandon 
known for unknown 
and to do it for me 
and in the name of passion 

Our physical urges cement and consecrate 
but this is also about power and privilege; we will because we can. 
And there is cost and darkness in that. 
We can’t remain unattached or untouched  

And forgiveness and fruition 
is the winds that whirl and weep 
into the cracks and crevices of bodies and minds, 
intellectually seduced as you work into me
lower than a serpent's belly
hotter than a pyre’s fire 

splitting my dress, 
tearing it open and apart 
until it hangs in rags 
revealing my naked body, 
whilst all that matters
is we are finding each other over and anew 

Arms tied behind my back
nipples raging in the cold air of the forest clearing 
your nearing me teasing, 
I’m bound and move little, 
you tickle and tempt me

Stripping my autonomy 
whilst giving it simultaneously 
feeling strong in my submission
there is no regression  

Of these living, breathing crimes 
the wild wind chimes 
like unwelcome company 

You approach the tree and lift my leg 
hooking it in the crook of your arm
face to face 6 inches between us 
you look into my eyes and push your fingers inside 
as though you're discovering me 

Digging to the roots, 
reaching for ripeness and going still deeper in  
like a reaper howling through the 
deep forest darkness 
shaking in its wake and I’m trembling 
as you kiss me with a force that might only be understood by rage  

my wetness is a lightness
a promise that I want you and this 
and now and power without power
in the woods and the quiet 
where others have to split open 
and raged like the radical truth 
that life moves only onward, 
We can’t stop its momentum 

To fall towards each other 
like first light Sun on a dual 
for dignity and honour  
winning the girl, feud, story, treasure 
projecting times a new and 
awash with hope 
in the wreckage of passion and pursuit, we are destiny, and bound 

A reckoning of the cost of love 
Ruining quiet lives and forging new paths, 
for nothing is quite without consequence 
or celebration. 
Especially renewal. 

And every birth reaps a death
and deep winter will come again 
but not till summer's sung.  

As if trying to not love 
we force fates hand 
and must understand 
we are simply energy moving 
like the trees grieve their leaves 
before they rot to dust 

You speak a spell of yearning and want
as you take me slamming me against the tough trunk bark 
rubbing more ecstasy 
into my poetry of fucking and fingering 
hard cock into soft moist flesh and 
lips with subtle scooping hips 

dancing in moonlight and mystery 
as if new love 
growing like spring shoots  
seeking the sun for revolution and relief 
a coming and a becoming 

inevitable settling after, 
cut down and free from the trees and held 
to the centre of the earth and beyond 
what’s below or above, a reckoning 

Deeper than the depths of despair or exquisite  joy
there is love and a spectrum of loving 
a darkness deep bitter and true 
in loving you