The Upside Down Tree
The Upside Down Tree—its Roots in Sky—
Its Branches clutch the Clay—
It drinks from Light instead of Earth,
And blooms the backward Way—
Its Leaves are Thoughts—unfastened—free—
That fall—yet never land—
They rise—like Prayer misunderstood—
By Gravity there Held—
The Trunk is Time—reversed in Grain—
Each Ring a future Past—
Where What we were has not occurred,
And What will be—has passed—
The Birds that nest—are Doubts and Faiths—
They sing in Counterpart—
One chirps of Loss—the other Hope—
Both roosting in the Heart—
No Axe may fell this curious Wood—
No Storm may make it yield—
For Truth—when planted in the Air—
Refuses to be killed—
So stand beneath its falling Roots—
And learn what few have known—
That Heaven grows the way it must—
When Earth is overgrown —
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