If a tree falls in a forest ...

I picture the earth cradled in a woman’s hands.

Only the hands of a woman are strong enough to

Hold all of existence without bruising it.

I see the universe mirrored in her pupils,

All the colors of creation intricately woven into her irises,

Do you see how they illuminate when the light touches them?

Still there are those who never once looked into her eyes

To see that they held everything -- you and I and the entire universe.

There were those who did not see

When her light dimmed, flickered, burned out,

Leaving nothing but prehistoric darkness.

Eyes squeezed shut, stoic silence as rough hands slid between her legs,

The quickening of her heartbeat.

Damp skin, hot suffocating breath down her neck.

Did the earth quiver?

Did the hands of the clock pause?

Did you look up from your book?

Somehow,

The waves kept churning, one after the other.

The noise of the streets continued buzzing, uninterrupted.

Children didn’t stop laughing.

But somewhere,

Where no one was watching,

A tree fell.

And does a fallen tree make a sound

When there are no ears present to hear it?