Secret of the Tree [2]

The Hu Tree

unshaken by the night-wind
whose wings flutter
uncertain on the edges
of the day's black,
the stars listen
to the talk through
the cypress trees,

hu goes its breath
in the mountain shadowed nights,
with its branches bent,
the tips brushing the air
like loving combs
laid aside by time,

hu goes its hush,
as clouds roll on empty roofs
over evening shutters
to wake over the day
like morning lace,
and holy roses bleed scarlet
thornprints in bridal gardens,

hu goes the breeze,
kissing down slender bark
as it loosens through
sunburnt green leaves,
early birdsong stills
and fading stars listen
to the talk through
the cypress trees.

_______________________

Closer Side of the Sky

I trace fingerprints
softly against
the tree's barkprint,

my eyes search
in the arteries of its trunk
for history's record,

traces of the weather's insertions
that work it in life,
random sculptures, intricate and odd,

wonderful knobs and seams
and hollows buried under
tree flesh,

a melancholy memento
of all that's been lost,
a few exquisitely patterned swirls,

existence remembered,
its personal memory
doesn't fade away,

and its own abstractions
hide ours in its bones
preserved in libraries,

an elegant living statute,
hair of boundless leaves,
my favorite quiet, private place,

its touch grounds my feet
and yet brings me
closer to the sky.

From the collection: "The Story of Living Things" >>

Read more of my poems >>