Tree Poem

By: Kierra N. Toney

I.

All the weight of the world is placed upon you as a Black woman.

Especially if you are a Black woman that is well aware of the intricacies of social inequality.

Is there a such thing as a Black woman that could truly say she isn’t?

We are taught, directly or indirectly, to be our own cheerleaders, our own biggest fans.

If we aren’t no one else will be.

We are conditioned to be strong, nurturing, accepting of crumbs of appreciation.

I must admit that it gets tiring, hardening, disenchanting.

And while I do love being a Black woman, wouldn’t trade it for any other social location.

Watching myself and others being mined for our magic and denied any reciprocal relationship

is getting so old.

While sitting in the park one day I thought to myself…

II.

The Appalachian Mountains are really really old right?

Ancient

Even older than white supremacy

At one point they were probably much taller

Taller than some of the younger mountain rages that tower over them today

Now, although beautiful

In comparison to other mountain ranges

They look like rolling hills

Do you know how they got that way?

Millions of years of weather erosion

Slow but powerful enough to move

Wash away

Mountains

That’s how social justice feels some time

I can remember as a younger woman

I was really passionate about being an activist

Now as an older, wiser, learned woman

I can’t say I’m passionate about it anymore

I just am it

Often without reward

It’s an added layer to my identity

An added burden

At least it is one that I have chosen

More or less

Activism, like water erosion, is capable of moving mountains of injustice

Slowly, over time, with much effort

and much time

So yeah I’m cool with being a drop of water in the weathering

that will ultimately liberate my people from an ancient reign of tyranny

But honestly I think..

III.

I think I’d rather be a tree.

To stand in my bareness, effortlessly secure.

Remarkable in any light.

Enriched by the world in the way it ought to be for each living thing.

Embellished by my age and experiences.

To give and to receive without expectation.

To be nurturing and nurtured without doubt.

To have a place that is mine in the world, in a system which knows it needs me and I it.

To be timeless.

Rigidly planted yet open to entertain the push and pull of the wind.

Rightfully proud to be as big as I am meant to be.

Earnestly believing that when my time is done, I’ve done all I was born to do.

Expecting when that season comes, as it inevitably will, to

Elegantly fall back into the earth to await my next assignment