Tree Spirit (Spring 1992)
i dream of making love with a tree.
i'm not in this human body
nor any body formed of flesh.
the branches caress me,
we entwine, entangle
low clouds that turn to fog,
vine, snake, chipmunk
i am all creatures who love tree
i am dryad - spirit living within this old oak
in its bark and its cork
in its root hairs and its leaf buds
in its water-carrying veins
and the oxygen producing,
of every single green leaf.
we are lovers,
my tree and i,
tickling one another
in the ways we each love best.
i wiggle her root hairs in the rich, dark earth
then squeeze her vessels upward,
making my tree giddy with life-pleasure.
my tree rustles her leaves,
oxygen and light swirling over me,
i am high, i am drunk, i am hers.
Friday, June 5, 2009
I wrote this poem years ago. I've hoped to get it published in an anthology on earth-based spirituality or something like that. But I haven't put much effort into making that happen. So here it is. Like it?