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The Journey to the West

Though we journey to the West We pray to the East More or less that's the way Each day begins and ends It’s a tale everyone ...

Friday, March 8, 2019

Each Tree That Speaks to Me (for Marissa)

Each tree speaks to me
More or less
Grandiloquently
Nothing but a cloven root
That has chosen to
Grasp at the soil and
Address itself skyward
Here and now

So we too have planted ourselves
With each new painting or poem
More or less snugly recorded
In words paper string and stone
The tropes of our inner light
Searching for an outward form

Our bark itself starts quivering
At first hint of approaching dawn






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