The Tree Stood in the Wood meditation on "Dream of the Rood" The tree stood in the wood but no one saw there were so many trees each a cross without a form a form without a cross leaves and branches making their own story So day goes night comes the dark surround forms lose shape hours go their way so night passes mid-night comes the darkest hour crossing a time divide weight of sorrow perhaps a longing for a new tomorrow midnight moves making room for the march of morning Grief I look for you but you are gone the dream too of the rood road way truth and light drenched in the slow blood of on-coming day along a vein of hands nailed to an ancient rite If the tree speaks may it call to me in Your name make me new in the new dawn's day
Cordelia Hanemann is writer and artist in Raleigh, NC. She has published in journals: Atlanta Review, Southwestern Review, and Laurel Review; anthologies, The Poet Magazine’s Friends and Friendship, Heron Clan and Kakalakand in a chapbook. Her poems have won awards and been nominated for prizes. Recently the featured poet for Negative Capability Press and The Alexandria Quarterly, she is now working on a first novel, about her roots in Cajun Louisiana.