Loss of the Old Tree Woman

She spoke with a whispering voice
the cry of ages withering dust falling
and a brother printed paper on your bark
and his cousin captured your voice
as you pushed out to sea the loss of
a child for you made you my mother
and the cold heart of the other

the wind that tears out all feeling
the wind that carries us from life
and over the water burning shrine
forgetting and losing you before he even met you
and now the theft of illusion from the mind
of artists by staggering forces
they are caught up in their
forests, climbing trees that are not there

and you rest now as my brother
worries about fevers
the unexpected ordinariness
as you passed from this our world
to the other taking with you that voice
and lamenting your child the one that
did not exist

and I wonder about my brother
working so hard for something forgotten
the time in between the loss of bark
and the drifting of reason
under the water the cousins
playing their music
and he sings to break ice
that never formed the weather
would not allow it