Notice of absence from Tristan Robert Lange
Life is full of seasons. This is a season of transition for me, where I will be moving with my family to a new location. As such, with much logistics to consider, I am doing my best to keep up. Please know if I accidentally don't respond, it is not because I am ghosting or becoming distant. Once things settle after the move, I am sure life will return to some normalcy. In the meantime, and always:
Read 👓, Write ✍️, Rise 🌅, Realize 🤯.
Tristan 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Life is full of seasons. This is a season of transition for me, where I will be moving with my family to a new location. As such, with much logistics to consider, I am doing my best to keep up. Please know if I accidentally don't respond, it is not because I am ghosting or becoming distant. Once things settle after the move, I am sure life will return to some normalcy. In the meantime, and always:
Read 👓, Write ✍️, Rise 🌅, Realize 🤯.
Tristan 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
why do i feel so
guilty
when I am
guilt-
free?
Lord have mercy,
a silent plea
made upon
the stump
of a forested
tree.
is this
what will be
left to see?
is this
what will
become of
me?
am i this tree?
Lord, have mercy.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, May 7, 2026.
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: May 7th, 2026 05:28
- Comment from author about the poem: Part of The Rutted Road collection.
- Category: Spiritual
- Views: 12
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Friendship, Salvia.S
- In collections: The Rutted Road.
Offline)
Comments8
Great write Tristan. You put a lot of yourself into your work. That moves the reader which I think is what we all want, for our words to have the power to persuade, change minds, melt hearts.
A rather deep reflection of being part of everything and what we do to that around us we do to ourselves. A most lovely and deep write.
An excellent plea in verse 🙏🤩✒️
This feels like a conscience talking to itself in a quiet place where nothing is hiding anymore—just raw honesty, stripped down to bone and breath.
There’s a haunting tenderness in it, like asking questions that don’t need answers to still matter.
lovely written, your poem involves introspection on guilt, the human condition, and a connection to nature, represented by the forested tree and the plea for mercy.
Yes - and we hear it - the remnant of.... a glug, maybe a 'glu'. Whatever is that? WCAT! lol.
This poem does what real prayers do: it doesn’t ask to be fixed, it asks to be seen. The way you split “guilt- free” makes me feel the cut in real time, and by the time we get to “am i this tree?” the metaphor stops being a metaphor. You’re not describing the stump. You
are it — rooted, exposed, still here after the forest is gone. That last “Lord, have mercy” lands different from the first one. It’s not ritual anymore. It’s recognition. Thank you for writing something this honest, dearest Tittu ❤️ a fave 🌹
This poem does what real prayers do: it doesn’t ask to be fixed, it asks to be seen. The way you split “guilt- free” makes me feel the cut in real time, and by the time we get to “am i this tree?” the metaphor stops being a metaphor. You’re not describing the stump. You
are it — rooted, exposed, still here after the forest is gone. That last “Lord, have mercy” lands different from the first one. It’s not ritual anymore. It’s recognition. Thank you for writing something this honest, dearest Tittu ❤️ a fave 🌹
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