Light Presence
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For Marlene Rye’s Tornado show of pastels....
Striving & Stretching...
for dozens and dozens of years
without quite..., without thanks;
each tree, each branch, each leaf
strains to attain, the ever Vast,
the vaulting vault of their Heavens.
Interloping bipedal lopers
crash chattering their way through
on walks and hikes; tramps trampling.
Escaping the very world they've built.
A heavy presence, without exception.
Leaving ruts, and litter,
taking token totems.
Once gone, ghosts - echoing aching presences.
The Trees are the Heavy Presence.
The weighty towers, the tumescent trunks.
The gathering green, the sipping root.
They compete with one another and
cannot compete with us-
for sounds, for space, for life.
When in the woods
do be a
Light Presence.
Copyright © Stephe Watson | Year Posted 2018
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