Coulda shoulda woulda

<N.B. The audio differs from the text slightly>

Stems grow and wrap themselves around their support.
Leaves unfurl and follow the rhythm of the sun.
They are slaves to a mighty power,
A god forever there.

You watch those green fleshy leaves,
Sailing and waving in the wind.
You're hypnotised as you look more closely.
Hidden inside are channels like cross-country motorways,
Pulsating with your heartbeat silently.
Or perhaps they're silenced by your memories
That scream - so - loud.

Your memories become short film fragments that bubble up to the surface
Through murky, muddy waters.
Even the smells of old lovers are sealed.
They don't evaporate, dissipate or escape.

Watch the branches twist and turn around temporal obstructions.
Tired, they perpetually and simultaneously work and rest.
The tree clings onto its last leaves like an overprotective mother,
Never daring to let them leave the nest.

But now it is time for you to let go;
To build up the courage
To let go of the past,
Your memories, your short film fragments.

I know you're exhausted,
Holding onto the past;
Holding on so strongly.
So just wait for the right wind
That can carry the past afar.

Be kind to yourself.
Be gentle to yourself.
Why hurt yourself inside,
Even if on the outside
You have it all?
It's pointless because
When you cry,
Your beautiful egg-thin shell cracks.

If my voice can travel,
Does it reach you?
If my words have meaning,
Are you listening?