For Janine

 

The oak tree convinces me of its strength
        It is a teacher
The maple sapling of Asian descent
        Struggling through a dry spell
The sun muting hemlocks in a war
        with their white infestation
        the fuzzy adelgid
The ever populous poplars
The seductive air emanating
        from harshless electric ferns
There's room for many
        in the sustenance

 

The forest displays the lights
        of all human paintings
The needle pointillism
        is a complete and unfailing mother
Living wood stands
        The Commune of the Future

 

The insects champion variety
        and outrageous shape
pushing the boundaries of beauty
        beyond experience
An ancient harmony of myriads
        emphasizing and isolating
                every sound not of it

 

The dramas of loud human family arguments
Big wheeler cargo tires and roar another gear
Choppers above up to no good
Relentless chain saws, back hoes, timber crack
        & thud
as dogs bark and dogs bark
It could be a cat, a coyote, a fox, the bear
        and water begins to boil
        in the homes and monasteries

 

We fly without machines
        over tors that look
                 like hardened muscle
                of stone masons
We float over tribal vista aretes
        and metaphysical peaks
Waves crashing glistening spectrums
        exploding on the behemoth grey rocks
where the Mayakovskys and Isabelle Eberharts
        hear the verse and saga
with direct orders to be written
        in the place where adventurers
                dream a reality
running eclectic in silken wolds jubilant
        bouncing through the splendid quag
singing to the fecund rotting duff

 

O elegant mushrooms and low ground berries
Behold the feral flowers of prairie and tundra
Heroic genetics of renegades
        the well bred roses are not your enemy
glorify and hosannah
the columbines and loose strife
        and big leafy hibiscus
and the mosaic meshed mandalas of randomness
        weaved into One
I'm beginning to see Design

 

The great books explain it
But the heavenly blues of morning glory
        delighted me
The poets and prophets sweat and secreted it
The scriptures outlined location
The scientists analyzed it to death
The priests tried to market it
The leaders of armies were ready
        to kill for it
The world was prepared to pay
        or make it pay
One thing for sure
        the world did not want it free

 

but I knew the running water
I had slept in a private way
        with the woman who danced
                in the sky
I had gone down on the ground
I touched her flesh
We are the sparkling belt of Orion
We are the orange moon
        and the result of the sun's light
The eyes hold the jewels
The thighs the lotus
        yes I'm beginning to see Design