Tree  Learning

A poem is a tree with branches that point

Skyward and prick the air, its bulk and weight

A point to pin thoughts on and roots that dig

Down deep below and drink of silent, dark

And swirling streams. It sips its meaning,

Sharp as needles, straight from Gaia’s bone and marrow;

Cold and piercing, truth is sent up, veining out

Through bough and branch, leaf and fruit, ever forced

To finer points till, blossoming out

In many hued grandeur, facing the world

Bold and candid, forked lightning in reverse

Trapping the mind and teasing with answers, it leads

You to look for the root in the fruit in your hand.

2012