When the earth is no longer a womb

When the earth is no longer a womb,
just a shriek and whistle of once uttered prayer—
a long, 
puncturing howl of everything 
that was once you 
turned into casualties of silence, 
then you know 
that death has arrived, 
noiselessly, 
silent as a missile. 

All the clamor outside- 
it’s the hibakujumoku, 
(the survivor trees) 
insisting on life 
within the blast radius 
of your heart.

Note:

In Japanese, the trees that survived the atomic bombings in Hiroshima and Nagasaki are called “hibakujumoku,” which translates to “A-bombed trees” or “survivor trees” in English.