Bang. Bang. Bang.

I remember the day when you came.

Bang. You pierced my bark, and left behind your mark.

A small, constant nagging at the edges of myself.

While you wrote my number in your ledger.

Documented, recorded. Your work done.

You didn’t think of me when you pierced my bark, and left behind your mark.

I am venerable Holm Oak.

01403.

I am Mother, steed, knower of time.

Ivy snakes her way through the cracks and crevices of my skin.

You think she overwhelms me, so you pull her away.

She is my friend, I offer her support so she can offer her blooms to the bees.

You misunderstand our relationship.

01403.

Bang. Bang.

You did not think of me when you pierced my bark, and left behind your mark.

You did not think of me when you took our land and called it your own.

You did not think of me when you paved over my roots, so that you can tread more easily your path.

You did not think of me when you…

Bang. Bang. Bang.

…pierced my bark once more.

The bats are what you thought of then.

You offer them a home.

Yet think not of the pain you leave in my being.

For years, and years.

01403. Holm Oak.

Perhaps now, as you sit under my wide canopy, seeking shade from the burning midday sun, you will think of me.

You ask of me now to protect you from the rack and ruin you have brought on yourselves.

You did not think of me when you pierced my bark, and left behind your mark.

Perhaps, now, I will move my branches to take away the shade you seek.

But I am not that way.

I am Holm Oak. Mother, steed, knower of time.

I have tolerated you.

Your bang, bang, piercing of my bark.

When you did not think of me, I thought of you.

I see far from up here, in all directions.

I see the wind awakening the knowing inside of you that has been quieted in the long winter.

I am Holm Oak. Mother, steed, knower of time.

Let me help you remember into our becoming once more as One.

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