When the bough breaks

Fearfully

I scramble Zaccheus like

into the tree

rough bark pressed

against my skin

I creep

along the bough

slowly

moving closer to the Sacred One below

peering through the leaves

wanting to be seen

fearing to be seen

carefully

parting the canopy

so close

but yet

and then eyes meet

a voice calls out

come

come

frozen I hang

suspended 

I cannot, must not
 let go

I must hang on

this place is safe 

here I will stay

snap

the bough breaks

my breath gone

I look up through the now settling dust

and see

love and hope

newness

sometimes

it seems

the bough must break