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Trees Rooting Me

Last Autumn we invested in a 0.5 acre
of Mother Earth’s aria,
as sung to Thames River swell and tide,
New England new sprouting this our virgin spring wedding
with this home place,
space of grace.

My urgent first task, now largely complete,
was to partner with the trees and ornamentals,
in Bodhisattva warrior solidarity
with human racing family co-arising co-respiring trees,
counter-revolutioning against upstart thorny opportunistic brambles,
wild grape vines
reaching over all our 0.5 arias of CoBreathing Allies
in brambly weedpatch ways.

I usually tip toward recessive underdogs
and creation stories,
as these are far too often disempowered PostMillennial Occupiers,
these brambles and vines flirting with monoculturing graves
of gracious Trees, and other beings,
draping together to suffocate
0.5 decomposing acres of hungry thorns and briars
waiting for Bodhisattva SuperWarrior Me
to saw and chop and hack,
and sometimes shamelessly slash and smack,
invading over-populating brambly trends
of ivy towering thorns
with empire-building designs
embedding my delightful flesh.

Now, first spring posing tree re-liberation,
leaves speaking young embryonic appreciation,
gentle thank yous opening to more buoyant sunrise,
draped in fallen sins of past neglect,
daring me to turn my well-armed back,
to continue this solidarity with our still-enslaved neighboring trees,
gasping for strength to breathe
through coils of parasitic woody stinging strikes,
blood-thirsty for revenge
snaking dense networked vines
stretching down valley toward river source
of water’s satisfying nutritious displays,
more generous than I would prefer,
taking no sides in this small revolution
within Earth’s 0.5 arias
of stress-afflicted trees.

Without sufficient humility
I more resemble thorny brambles
than wise Elder Trees
rooting through compost-drenched systems
deep down to River’s sacred bed,
rising to meet Full Moon nights of bright.

Yet, in self-defense,
and defense of trees and ornamentals,
I prize our diversity and harmonic balance;
not so much looking for a free ride
up to sun’s commingling paradise.

Now free to speak their new spring intentions,
my neighbor trees, allies,
co-inhabitors of 0.5 Earth acres,
remind me to do my best with them,
try to follow their strong-rooted commingling example,
and avoid proliferating over-populated competitions
for River’s water
and SunGod’s co-arising light.

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