Crag the Crow

I gave you a song about those two trees over there. Surviving just beyond their precarious adolescence, Soaring to see beyond our crumbling buildings.  And I told you a limb had splintered on one tree While the other grew strong and proud. I told you that I stood there and watched it happen.  Though I did not tell you the rest.  Restrained by the form, I was short of time To tell you about the moments I spent watching. Moments, and perhaps even hours - Time spent on important matters of soul.  Hands on my hips and I surveyed nature.  (Nature is often my poetic subject, and by that I am most surprised).  Looking to juice meaning from the mundane.  I stepped out of my shelter and breathed the succulent air.  Those two oaks opening the leaves of their pages  And unraveling timeless theology.  I read the icons to the ceiling of their vaunted vault. The vengeful sky roiled with porphyric pe...

Two oaks rooted deeply in a green field In a countryside a mere mile from you.  I approach their ancient stand, my needs sealed.  And the blanketed sky yields its blue hue. Motionless by the oaks waiting for change.  Dry air cedes the world to the droplets massed. And I the witness planting pedals upon the range The storm washes me, I stay, 'til ire past. For the great length of the divine drenching,  I remain still in that place while the rage raged. Tranquility in my heart enduring Each storm fails to uproot while life goes aged.  And one oak limb splintered and fell to earth.  The other nourished, adding to its girth.