To the Oak framing the Wind

Ancient, as quiet as wisdom
giant, as gentle as subtlety
oak in the light, as soft as strength
dichotomous, as life and death
time as a rock cast by a sling
and hitting space between the eyes.

Lichened surface, as rugose as purpose
grey greens and browns, as muted as calmness
and flights and feathers, preludes on boughs
where leaves will sprout and shade will perch
when arched radiance brushes of warmth
and equinoctial yellows both meadows and sky.

Sing to me silent touches of the wind you frame
and my veins will open for kinship to flow
in semblance of blood with the youth of sap
oak in the light, as real as all dreams
erected by breaths coherent as one
whom the past has framed as future will gust
in utterance of love – from my lips, shaping now
what others will echo and have mused before.

© 2006 Alexandra* ~ OneLight*®