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Archive for the ‘trees’ Category

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The seed case must be broken,

cracked, perhaps by heat,

the fire of too much passion,

or the cold of no passion at all.

 

And then the seed must drown,

or swim in water, tears, rain, snow.

Seed swells in water,

and breaks the stiff case open.

 

Sun dries the seed till it bursts

with green arms and fingers.

Legs, feet, emerge like demons

the air and water take form.

 

Earth must swallow seed,

push against the green thrust,

and show it how to anchor

into the deep work of growth.

 

poem: Sarah Fuhro

photo: Bruce Lhuillier

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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black and white twisted branches

Mysteries remain in the trees

after the leaves depart.

 

Branches spell out poetry,

in a forgotten form,

a language of ancestors,

who weep alone, without us.

 

The words are the shape of twigs,

the sentences formed of limbs.

 

It is song not story, which the bark

expands each spring, with the rivers

which flow to the fingers.

spoken through a bird’s throat.

poetry: Sarah Fuhro

photo: Bruce Lhuillier

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