The Cedar Tree

The smooth polished wood,
The delicate carving,
The tree sap clings on for life,
Not wanting to be seen.
It draws me in.
The bark, durable and broad,
The glassy texture,
The sensation so tempting,
It rings out to me.
It draws me in
As I advance towards it,
I can smell the purified wood,
It arrests my wonders,
And I imagine myself in my homeland.
It draws me closer.
The wood calls out to me,
Longing for me to return to Lebanon,
And be united with the sheer sculpture,
And be reunited with the family I once knew.
It calls me.