chestnut trees
raise lamps of flowers,
kindling floral flames of red and white
to guide the planet
into summer.

ice sculpture trees,
silhouetted against the sun,
scattered from Fairie
on cold winter winds
bear fruits of icicles
as they die
back into reality.

a rocky scab
cuts across my center,
weighting down my soul
and slicing me in two,
shrinking me
to half-size.
a crusty stone top
caps off a mysterious blackness
of simple existence
and no intelligence
where none has ever been,
where shapes of smoke
glinting through the darkness
gather strength,
swirling against the sides,
bulging it upward and outward,
as a something
strives to unite with me
and break through
into the light of my being.

my living room window
frames a picture
of divine reality.
arboreal Hindu gods
of pine trees
spread their branches of blessings
out from sunlight-carved trunks
and the Halloween night oak,
devoid of leaves,
its spread piercing the tangle of background,
makes its grey skeletal comment
on the green lushness,
while human afterthoughts of telephone poles,
go about their mundane business
as usual.

spring glints and sheds
off pine needles
from blowing breezes.

bare stalks
nurture liquid crystal berries
of raindrops,
glinting fertility
holding the fat
of the earth.

squirrels scamper
along the ground
from tree to tree,
living shuttles
weaving the natural world
into the human one,
creating a paradisiacal pattern
of yard.