Sunday, November 17, 2013

Paper Birch


Dormant, she dreams of the sun,
And strains towards it, bud by bud.
Zephyr teaches her a song
And her sap begins to rise.

"Kiss us, light," declare her leaves,
"Claim us, change our properties,
Let us share the breath of life
With all of our surroundings."

Stretched taut from old sapling-wounds,
Ring within rings, the heart-wood
Bears the burden for the rest,
While it savors its own death.

Sudden storms which bend her trunk,
Snap her branches, thresh her stems,
Instruct her to sink within
Her roots, deep in earth's midden.

Old gnarled fingers are her roots,
Which claw for water through rocks.
These roots sense an adventure:
A dark and throbbing center.

The light which flows within her
Endures its endless circle.
Trembling scrolls of bark are blank,
Like whispered prayers without names.

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