A Guiding Faun Poem by Mark Heathcote

I remember a willow tree half-eaten
by fire and lightning;
and later a blue tits nest a living scroll
within a cracked-open blackened vest.

I remember a frozen landscape.
A winding stream with yellow primroses
and a personal agony back then-
I imagined-would-always-remain a torrent.

I remember thinking, how do I fit?
How do I survive-identical a blue tits egg?
Will I endure lives, every misfortune;
equal half-eaten willow trees apportion.

I remember thinking this is no dream.
It holds nightmares of every persuasion-
of joy and misery of equal equation;
it evolves, as does the season's opposite.

I remember thinking, how life goes on
how it flourishes with virtuosity,
how it fights back from adversity,
inhabits-remote places, a guiding faun.