I Come to the Tree

CONTENT WARNING: murder, blood, implied sexual assault.

I come to the tree. I come every day. I look for the one who took me away. He’s not in the sea, the salt in the air, the rustle of leaves, or the breeze in my hair. He makes not a sound, no whistle or cry, no tears of regret or whimpers goodbye. Yet here I will find him, and though I do yearn to make myself scattered, I always return.

I come by the tree. I come by the sea.

I came to the tree. I came every day. I sat by the roots to read, laugh, and pray. I ate from its fruit, I rested in shade, I daydreamed of places, yet I never strayed. I stayed by the tree and I wouldn’t dare to wander too far and end up nowhere. I tasted the fruit, the pears large and sweet. I climbed up the branches and dangled my feet.

I lived by the tree. I lived by the sea.

I came to the tree, just like every day. I picked all the pears that in the grass lay. I savored the fruit in cold autumn chill, then watched it in winter, when it was so still. I cried in the spring at the time of rebirth. In summer I rested, splayed down on the earth. I came to the tree and he saw from afar that I was alone and that help was too far.

I was by the tree. I was by the sea.

He came to the tree. He came every day. He said not a word, but watched anyway. He licked his dry lips. He rubbed his wet palms. He heard me sing songs and recite all my psalms. He crept up the tree. He made not a sound. He smelled like a pig and he huffed like a hound. He came with a knife, the steal tainted red. He took all he could and he cut off my head.

I died by the tree. I died by the sea.

I saw first the tree. I saw the moon next. I felt my self grief. I felt bruised and vexed. I saw the pears dangle and sway in the breeze, and though fall was over, I no longer freeze. With fingertips shaking, I found the wound wide. The green grass was tainted and in that, I lied. I looked for the one who’d taken me away. I look for him still. I look every day.

I am by the tree. I am by the sea.

I come to the tree. I come every day. I rise with the sun and fade with midday. I float in the breeze, like a pear, sweet and green. I rest on the grass and stay there, unseen. I wait in the morning. I climb to the crown. I watch over fields as well as the town. I watch over maidens and those who’re uncared. I look after children and those who’re scared.

I stay by the tree. I stay by the sea.

I come to the tree. I come every day. And if you are careful, you might hear me pray. I whisper the words in the rustle of wind: somehow, fate will find him and bring me the fiend. I wait for the moment. I’ll find him at last, make equal our ledger, and right what was past. I will drag him under. I’ll trap him below. He’ll rot in the summer and freeze in the snow.

I wait by the tree. I wait by the sea.

I come to the tree. I come every day. I look for the one who took me away.