Buckeye Love
The tree saw me before I saw it,
Its open eye steady, unblinking.
Being seen stopped me,
My eyes brimming in surprise at the unexpected intimacy.
Cycles of flood and drought, thought and knowing,
Identity and unity, thrummed their rhythms in my belly.
I sat cradled in its perfect lap
Grateful to be held at last
In the arms of one rooted in
How Things Are, rocking me awake from the
Deep sleep of Who I Am to a tender embrace of
My tired, lonely, defeated, lovable, wary, magnificent self.
Comments
1
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| Section | Nature: Trees |
| Views | 3,055 |
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jkfd fjcnnf 06/06/2008 14:20
good, nice place:)