A poem by a lay friend contemplating our interconnectedness through the beauty of a tree.
By Rose Lucas on
What is it that anchors the wide and intricate reach of this life that gives enough ballast so that even tree’s weightiness might hope to unfold to inhabit the blue tumult of unpredictable sky so that breath might flow a curled fern that opens to body’s lip the whisper of leaf that passes the cargo of what’s precious to veined leaf this synaptic pulse of what finds and clasps and feeds sifting the darkness of soil so that arms might be lifted into the prospect of the world?
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A poem by a lay friend contemplating our interconnectedness through the beauty of a tree.
By Rose Lucas on
What is it that anchors the wide and intricate reach of this life that gives enough ballast so that even tree’s weightiness might hope to unfold to inhabit the blue tumult of unpredictable sky so that breath might flow a curled fern that opens to body’s lip the whisper of leaf that passes the cargo of what’s precious to veined leaf this synaptic pulse of what finds and clasps and feeds sifting the darkness of soil so that arms might be lifted into the prospect of the world?
