Pine-ing for More

A pine tree greeted me
in my dreams this morning.

She moved toward me,
floating on invisible feet,
her presence brushing my chest.

I reached for her meaning
but found only connection.

On my walk, I searched again.
My juniper was steady,
offering two berries for my heart.

Still, sadness spun me.
Dizzy with any forward motion,
I climbed toward the white pine
of my childhood.

Her scent cracked me open.
Tears rose with the wind—
two directions at once,
rough mothering that poked and waved.

Sap on my tongue,
a bitter-sweet reminder:

Sometimes life hurts.
Better than not feeling at all.