Poetry by Braxten Jones

It stands

I stumbled on this journey 

But before I fell, it’s like it heard me

It called me like a loved one

And in its sight pulled me closer

It stands such a sight

That I began to examine day and night my entire life

The roots not just bounded but plated in togetherness

Thread and thread

Up and out they go 

Spreading above 

Creating a sort of home

And in this home 

Lies the fixtures

That smell so sweet

But are limes that I knew of bitterness

This tumbled me once more so 

I examined again to the highest parts

And I found you among the branches and the bark


Little one, little one

I’ve been waiting for you to find me

Waiting for you to see where you come from 

You are in awe and perplexed at yourself 

And you chose to examine

Ignoring how you felt

It’s okay, it’s okay

Take the time that you need

I will place all the time you need

I will place all the time in the world 

Down to the roots at your feet

Once you are done trying to make this thing called sense

You decide just to look 

You put down your defense



Come up near the limes

Sit and relax and tell me what you find

Yes you found me, tell me more

What it is you want to receive

You don’t t know you don’t know

You lost your way on the road

Hiding in my house you ask

Why these limes smell so sweet

Because you know of their bitterness

The taste between your text 

Well I say, why do they taste bitter to you

You say that’s just how it is, how they are

But nothing really is how they are

You may taste the bitterness

Because you have faith in that mindset

But if you relied in the truth of your senses

The sweetness you’d find in them


Where did the seed come from?

You say it came from the tree?

But where did that tree come from, from another seed

But where

I’ll stop I think you feel it,

feel my need

Because I’m searching for this thing

Oh something

Where did I come from?

You say I came from my parents? 

But where did they come from?

Okay I’m done

It’s a cliche buy you get it

But we all still wonder from where do we find purpose in our existence

Even though we know that we can go on this journey forever searching for the root of us

The root of us

If you think

Comes from a seed

And we are all raised to become different types of trees

So stop trying to cycle yourself back 

Searching for the truth in a line in your past

But witness it in your impact

In the seeds that you plant and not the things that you lack