The Roots of Love

By Leona M. Johnson

Father believed I could not love a tree

Because you had no hands for me to hold,

But I have spent my life collecting seeds

And to your arms I’ve cast my wand’ring soul.

You’ve hid it since in twig and rustling leaf

While I’ve tight pressed against your ivy side.

What other can defeat Prince Winter’s thieves,

Standing guard to preserve your budding pride?

Though our hands may not ever be the same,

Our grains aren’t quite so different after all.

Soft flesh and ancient wood combine to claim

The spread of living roots and heartstrings raw.

I’m waiting still for you, my dryad muse,

As my love for you shall forever bloom.

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Leona M. Johnson is a poet, short story author, and novelist. Her work focuses on relatable protagonists, fantastical creatures, and supernatural oddities. Johnson has published poetry in LAMP Literary Magazine.