poetree night.

[spiderpig]

"My road is beyond the blue sky;
The clouds never make any commotion.
In this world there is a tree without any roots;
Its yellow leaves send back the wind."
- Sozan
[his dying words]

The very air
(Faith Reason)

but we tire      of spirit      sight
         striving always      for elsewhere as we are
so much      among phenomena      God
         loses luster      where we are local only     inured
to detail      starting small      with grasses
         flowers then trees    we don't know     nor rocks
days      to recite the names      of them all
         seems heaven enough      to us      because  what is
language that      "categories of thought
         embodied in individual living forms"      thread through us
& things equally      —matter      a sidereal charity
         & doesn't it bract      doesn't it sepal & send seed splitting sheath
into soil      doesn't our flesh      the very fossils      tremble bedrock

Brian Teare