Poets and the pressure on words
refusing to bear the weight of flesh.
Not in this condition. Uh-uh.
sustaining love in rootedness and leaf-making,
So many beginnings.
It is enough to sit with great trees and wonder, wild with wonder from a wilder God and an earlier time, how my mother passed on this gift fueling me over these decades one after another in gestures passed on from emerging stones calling for twice daily tides.