Southern Sycamore

[Ras Rebel]

Roots strong from Winter snows
Timeless blows of Autumn winds
Strip her limbs;
Expose her soul to Winter cold.

Spring buds restore her beauty
Summer sun warms her soul
But in the distance
Autumn winds hint of change.

Gazing at Georgia plains
Her wooden eyes have witnessed a million lives
Seen vibrant villages consumed by metropolis

She tells of brokered treaties and broken peace
wails war cries of fallen chiefs.

She belts ‘strange fruit blues’
Of branches bruised by
burnt black bodies
that dangled in despair.

Tales of terror.
Watched them tear and
uproot ancestral groves

Her branches blew fury
But found no wind
to bear her wrath

Southern Sycamore
finds solace in Autumn’s laugh
His breath brings promise

She ponders…prays…

Perhaps this Winter will be cold.
Perhaps a deep freeze will blanket then wash away
The school houses, the churches, and paved roads
Perhaps Earth will be as above

Then Spring will come.


by Ras Rebel