Can Tree Obelus

“There’s language, and there’s writing.”
We have no compelling why.
All are busy preparing
To go either East or West,

But I will go North,
If I can, to the tall trees,
Past the obelus

Of the past that divides us,
And I will kneel there
On my battered knees
Beside the lake that healed me.

There is no standard usage
For the word to end all words,
Only the world’s forgiveness.