The knowledge of the tree

Sometimes I wish I was more of a tree,
to let the wind getting closer,
and to push my branches lovingly,
until the stars managed to caress.

I would like to learn to worship the Sun,
from the proud knowledge of the tree,
aware of how much wisdom in his being,
the red star a day dares to bring.

I’d like to be a tree to guide me,
between blue, green and black to meet me,
with rays of light to mold me,
and under my feet so I can bury myself.

I’d like to be a tree to feel,
phoenix in seed contained,
thanks to the ashes that protected me,
until the wind came back.

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