The Petrified Forest Poem by Arthor Journer

Alone I walk as the leaves whisper underneath soulful feet,
Petrified trees lean into each other impelled by the wind’s breath.
My sullen soul shivers and contemplates a disdainful retreat,
Surrounded by nakedness and the impaling hands of death.
Alone my heart shutters to thoughts that invade my borders,
Petrified trees dream of buds and the future seasons of fruit.
My timorous spirit utters my dreams to reinforce the orders,
Sustained by the rhythm of the fallen leaves and the beating roots.
Alone my eyes look for the signs of hope the evidence of sight,
Petrified trees hide in their hibernation offering no sap.
My battered mind finds their bark as dangerous as their bite,
Running and standing as fear and courage warily overlap.
Alone I walk my ears can only hear the rustle of leaves and my pulse,
Petrified trees murmur about the vision of this tumor.
My frayed heart swaying with the branches on impulse,
Enveloped by the echoes of silence and the wounds of rumors.