The Tree Stood in the Wood – a poem by Cordelia Hanemann

   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 FriendshipHeron 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. 

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