Springing, a wooden fountain clawing up and seizing handfuls of sky,
From a seed, once pierced, flooding bark and vein and leaf,
A flash-frozen image witnessing centuries of inching growth,
Earth’s womb births a living monument to the beauty of tireless patience.

His grip streams also downwards, cascading away from the light,
Roots surge, a backwards tree, a forest to gravity submissive,
Sundering stone and breaking bedrock, juggernaut tendrils,
Disdaining gold and diamond to drink deep decomposed dirt.

Come summertide, branches bow and bend, saluting the forest floor,
Spring flowers fall and seed-fruits swell, the weight of promised life,
Fecundity unrivalled, to feed man and bird and wasp and deer,
And to charge the earth with secret plans of sprouts for future days.