Aurora Magazine 2009

Leaves tinted blue By Amy Watkins

I feel most alive when everything around me is dying. Sometimes I wish to be a tree, so that I too can take off a few months of life and go dormant in my own mind. Search around my own weary roots to find and mend all that I’ve been desperately letting go. Feed my tiny toes into the earth and feel the gentle pulse of all that is quiet and jointly searching for peace. When the time comes to resurface: my branches will sprout buds of a new promise, reaching up to a sky blanketed in every color found in her eyes.  When it rains I’ll catch each drop in the folds of my growing leaves and soak it into the dehydrated soil that is my prison. Thirsty roots will drink in blue rain. Growing leaves will reflect the sky. And I will be stained hopeful.