Hey Lou Writes

The Grey Matters

My Maple Tree


My womb is an empty harvest
Promising plenty and starving me
Both at once

I saw it as life
Blood and energy and pain
Until I saw it as a wasteland
But there was still blood
And still pain
Always pain

When I place my hands on my belly
My nails claw, gently, hinting
At the violence I’d like to invoke
I’d like to rip it away
Tear it out
Bleed to death
And cry out for her while I die

Until, I remember
The hands that touch me
My own
Are gentle and the nails only scrape for pleasure
The tingling inside comes from something within me
From no other life than the one I live
I’m inside of me
No one else is

I am a human sacrifice for all that could have been
I am a hollow tree with limbs trying to reach for her family
Cracking in half or maybe three
I am a rock, the kind with magic inside
That only shows when it’s broken

I am made of ancient sand and dirt and stars
And I hope I become a maple or
A weeping willow
Swaying over a river that tears through the earth
Witnessing the power
Part of the strength that holds the foundation together

I won’t crack when the ice comes
If someone ties me together
Someone will say, “That should be enough”
And still, I’ll threaten to crash
Only with the one I love

Author: Melinda Haas

Melinda is a writer, blogger, artist and teacher. She lives in Wisconsin with her family.

2 thoughts on “My Maple Tree

  1. “And now just as you trusted Christ to save you, trust Him too for each day’s problems; live in vital union with Him. Let your roots grow down into Him & draw up nourishment from Him. See that you go on growing in the Lord, & become strong & vigorous in the Truth you were taught. Let your life overflow with joy & thanksgiving for all He has done.”
    Col 2:6-7

  2. Beautiful.

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