Ensnared

Published on by Tosha Michelle

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The wind breaks hearts
while the tangled tree branches
shelter their list
of grievances underground.
All they ever wanted was to be loved.
To the forest the tree stands
in regal glory and sweet familiarity.
All the while ensnared in the whims of nature,
the tree can’t break free from
the toxic atmosphere
The branches rustles to offset despair.
The husk marred by neglect
begins to rot
The sun attempts to change the tree’s fortune.
The pine leans toward the light, but the wind
draws it back in a jealous purchase.

Wrung out. Resigned to the oncoming storm’s chaos, knowing trying to shake it off
is futile. The tree lifts its branches in surrender. The
leaves, unencumbered by obligation, jump then fall. They would rather die than submit.

-Tosha Michelle

69 thoughts on “Ensnared”

      1. Hahaha. I’m hearing the voice of Romantic poet, William Blake, who said Milton’s vision was perfect in every respect but one: Milton accidentally called Satan “the Messiah,” and accidentally called the Messiah “Satan.”

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  11. “Wrung out. Resigned to the oncoming storm’s chaos, knowing trying to shake it off is futile. The tree lifts its branches in surrender. The leaves, unencumbered by obligation, jump then fall. They would rather die than submit.”

    Amazingly profound, please pass the Kleenex. Truly beautiful, as I sit still for a moment. Thank you for this! ~ Mia ❤

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  13. I always find that bending towards the light results in an equal amount of pain, when you snap back, relative to the distance leaned. And I always lean way too far…Because it feels so damn good to have that light on your top branches.
    The leaves…they are a different story.
    Goodnight, Poetess. Sweet dreams.

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  14. Wonderful words for nature truest wonders. From shielding shade to taming the winds of sounds they sing, & harness the sun to in rich air we need without thought of breath. In their after life, they continue to live for us. In art & shelter, Seldom loved enough, more often burnt, they sacrifice unconditionally. They live to die, as we couldn’t live without them.
    Nature lady your roots run deep. ♡♡

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  15. It is interesting to consider the angst of trees in an emotional way. I also a fair amount of forest with some very ancient trees and have always considered them to be mentors or elders. Regardless, I feel blessed to experience the loveliness of your poetry, your voice and now possibly your art? Did you do this piece?

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