dying tree

i think i'm drowning here.
watermarks on my body, i am spoiling.
but for this quaking fear,
water's rising,
i am still quiet.

if i were to be sliced in half
my rings would show 25 years,
my branches would show no sign of leaves.
i was struck by lightning on this night,
a gracious soul lent me his soul,
and by glory I came to,
shaking and slightly charred.
the roots of me intact,
flowers loose,
but glorious and bright.

sweeping wind, stinging cold,
like the water that may kill me,
puddles like oceans,
spilling green and blue over me,
i am lifeless.

power is what you will it.
disguise is sensuous anonymity.
perfect is the glow that lies beneath this
brave and dying tree.