Friday, July 18, 2014

If I Could Be a Home for Hearts

Inside the tree is the savagery of the world
Inside of a tree is also the world's hope and peace
It sits quietly out my window in wild orgy
Never quiet, yet never quite loud enough to act somebody.
It Stands.  I sit, and contemplate
And slowly it draws water from my pondering
In minute scrutiny it appears to be a machine
Grandly though appears the model citizen
And on human scale appears to provide nutrients
As a marketplace for shade, oxygen, firewood, topsoil, and perch
While industrially greening worlds for ages gone by,
And competes for a living as all wild things do.

Trees, little do they do
And little do they not do
They bend in the winds and rain
With roots deep in hell
While their crown resides in heaven
And home for many birds and squirrels, too.

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