Gibran’s trees


now you can stop counting
how many shelters that fell
homes that were not yours
hands that pushed.

Feel no shame traveller
for your journey
(which continues)
for the dark hollows you have known
for the burning temples you ignited
for all the dances and despairs.

Look back and see your mark upon the world
the precious world has transformed
under your feet
your touch
your tear
under your song.

Now traveller
take hands with your companion
find the broken place and crack it
let whatever pours out spill
let it lie
that old vessel has done its job
held you so long
praise it
and bury it with love
soaked by the elixir it contained.

Now you are held 
and you are singular
like Gibran's tree
you the cypress, me the oak
your mysteries are forever yours
as are mine.

Look traveller
at the collection of old broken vessels at our feet
their rich water feeding our roots
as a new vessel
the horizon calls.