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The Hanged Man

Perhaps to hang

Means to plant yourself so deeply

In a puddle so still

That your body becomes the roots

Of the reflection of a tree

Like the horizon kissing

The ocean's gentle waves

Until you can't remember which way is up

And when you've hung so long

Gazing into the pool by your feet

That you look up and realize you're in the sky

And the answers were in your soul

Written in the old craggy bark

Of your own palms

All along.

So you scream

Until your lungs produce enough carbon dioxide

To remember that you are

All at once

The antithesis and the symbiote

To the tree you came from

To yourself

A sacrifice

Of yourself to yourself

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