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Cherry Tree with Swing

Adorn me with flowers of lace, ripe cherries and encircle me with scents of love. The sweat, the tears, the glory, the risks. Swing me high toward the heavens where beyond the morning sun lies hope. Protect my heart from the fierce winds that lash against the sea coast, from the melting ice of wronged lovers, the friend that walked away, the past that tries to rebirth into my now. Let the taste of love, desire and acceptance which has been buried shoot up from the womb of our ancient gardens; ones we continue to sow and harvest from and breech without returning blessing from our gifts. Let love be released into the hands of kindness, kept from the grip of cruel misers who want it all for themselves. All. For. Themselves. Swaddle my inner child and embrace my womanly strength. Amaze me with praise just once, for I fought so hard with unseen swords and I came to know this place in me that I alone am responsible for. My courage came from the roots of all women before me, the blood and laborous calloused hands of every color of flesh, every stealth victory that was not recognized by the lone observer. I am adorned with the wisdom of wise, weathered trees that are like the bones deep inside the earth that lie and listen to the new steps taken above. Steps to become stronger, better not best. With smooth velvet, sanguine and rich I pour back my beauty of life into the land that I borrow from our highness, our home, our clawed and traversed planet. Swing me high above the cherry tree so I can see the hope. Swing me higher than the swallows and let me see the love that is in waiting; grace my heart and heal my sorrow for I am unable to be truly conscious without soaring above the ugly minds of those who tried to break me and the venomous souls that are the works of greed. Adorn me with solace so I may give again and again and more. Again, again and more.