Feel what fuses and what forms
In the hours of the shadow.
Timeless shapes and shapeless thoughts
Up, from endless caverns rising.
Spilling, spreading,
Like a fog that clings to earth,
Filling crevices and hollows.
Wrapping roots and rising trunks
Sucking, feeding on this fare.
That well above the forest floor
Mighty trees might rise above,
Might spread branches to the light
And show their leaves
And take their shape
Unaware, with not a clue
Of seed and food and breath and thought
That gave rise to such
Magnificence.
(March 2009)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem