Sacrifice

is the tree falling no one ever hears
in the deserted forest –
did it really fall? if you weren’t there when Van Gogh painted
Starry Night, did he really
paint it? 
Over the years 
you’re taught to take off the burden, take on the world –
is your oyster,
is your playground 
is our world even alive anymore?

It’s an aisle an earth you’ve colonized 
you’ve adjusted to the tint of the red-tinged dirt
on your hands –
when you sit down for dinner 
mmm isn’t it 
DELICIOUS, how delightful is the taste of 
sacrifice?

is the air you breathe?
is the suffocation of mother earth?
is it sacrilegious to admit you 
take on after the bee?
pollinating skies with smog and dragon’s breath –
hive mentality,
only ends in tragedy.

Are you a mother? A daughter? A son? So, you must know 
that apologies are in order, it’s 
‘the natural order of things’ the way the 
‘cookie crumbles’ and with it comes crashing our future, don’t
All jump in at once, 
sacrifice is not the withering root, 
is not a charred stump in the middle of Lahaina
is not the silent song of the sparrow, 
is not a finger in the air yelling
‘You are wrong 
and I am –’​

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Keila Cruz is a native Dominican poet based in Brooklyn, New York currently working toward a career in art therapy in hopes of sharing the healing power of poetry with others. She has self-published other works through her social-media and website platforms which you can find conveniently in her signature. She is a frequent reader of Gaia Literary Magazine and would be truly honored to have her work shared with others through your platform