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Trees by Chris L
artwork by Chris L

The last time,
I remember,
Being together.
A lifetime before
This time.
I remember.

Oh, I remember,
Deep in my porous white bones
Your young ash white timber,
Slender
Turning dark
Over the spread of time.

The two of us
Then, not breaching at the hips
Into two, fine, footed extremities,
But instead rooted,
Committed to bear witness
To endure from one perspective.

And I, then, deeply ridged and furrowed,
Remember you,
Standing a glorious height as I leaned in on you.
Feeling the faint whisper of your
Unswept, rounded, flat, thin leaves,
Ridged along the midrib, needle-like.

Clocked in emerald and evergreen.
Washed in a translucent milky white bloom.
Your waxy luster, like a chalcedony gem
Softly mirroring me,
Consoling me, assuring me
That I too, can stand tall.

You, my eminence,
Abies magnifica,
With your narrow, conic crown
And I, with mine
Snugly stacked, nested and treasured,
Rested upon you, like a young lover.

The brilliant ruby-red plumage,
My cardinal gift, my honor.
A testimony of possible joy and freedom,
A thanks for your tolerant brace
Holding my failing, my slipping.

And yet with all my weighted burden
You wait with possibility, probability.
Generous, sainted, red branches scarred, but budded abundantly.
Bundles of deep red-purpled cones with
Winged seeds falling beneath your reign.

Oh, my majestic love,
Heady in your heavy, wooden scent.
Like a school girl,
I lean deeply into your tall, slender stock
Breathing in the sweet smell of musky earth and cedar.

I know your red heartwood.
I have pined for it.
And over lifetimes leaned into it,
And over lifetimes our round, burdened branches rub
Sounding the timber of a chanterelle struck,
A warm resinous cord of music made.

I remember. Oh, I remember
A lifetime of remembering
Lifetimes.
Standing close and leaning in,
Enduring sun and shade
Like rough and fissured on old trees.

September 2013

destroyer 2
Wooden Sculpture by Dan Webb

A block of hard wood,
Dense,
Unable to fit in,
Toe stubbing and dull,
A heavy reminder,
A loathsome remainder –
No longer welcome and
Cast out on an unknown sea.

Adrift on the cold, dark water
Obtuse, deadwood turned stupidly with the earth.

Then,

S e r e n d i p i t o u s l y,
Pulled in by a mothering tide.
Rolled playfully in a salty, green-gray swell and
Rocked in a lustrous, silky emerald ocean.
Water thinned celadon lapped
The straight-grained, reddish-brown timber,
Washed it smooth,
Gently persuaded, and perfected its inherent qualities,
Its hard and sturdy truth.
Turning hardship into a handsome beauty,
A dark mahogany heart buoyant with love.

Moonbeams cast a light and pulled the trusting heart to shore.
At dawn, the sun took the moon’s place.
Shone brightly, the polished, red mahogany heart glistened,
Beating in the gentle lap of a warm turquoise pool,
Lulled in a lullaby of
Shishh hhhaaaa,
Shishh hhhaaaa
And dutifully prepared to be treasured.

September 2013