The Tree by Gordan Struić

I woke

in the body of a tree —

my arms outstretched,

my breath slowed

to the rhythm

of leaves.

I felt

the ants,

the weight of a bird,

the tickle of moss

at my feet.

I listened

to the hum

of everything:

earth turning,

the silent labor

of roots.

No questions

about tomorrow,

no regrets

about yesterday.

Only stillness —

and the deep relief

of being part

of something certain.

And just as I began

to forget

what it meant

to move,

to speak —

I woke again,

human,

hands clenched,

lungs heaving,

the phone buzzing

on the nightstand.

Gordan Struić is a poet, writer, and lawyer from Zagreb, Croatia. His work explores silence, memory, and the hidden undercurrents of human experience. His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Beyond Words, 34th Parallel Magazine, Stone Poetry Quarterly, Prosetrics Magazine, Voidspace, and #Ranger Magazine. When not writing, he plays guitar and explores the dialogue between poetry and sound.