I
A tree over the years
remembers drought, abundance,
rain and flood
In embracing rings of bark, of sap:
I have collected rubbings of my own-
skin darkened after a burn,
tissue stretched, glistening silver like a rivulet;
pock marks on water soaked flesh;
remembering the years I lived
and the years I have to live.
II
We are no different: tree and I,
bark and skin, wood and flesh,
blood and sap. I breathe out
Ki breathes in; I animate my earth body,
Ki holds the earth, between ki-self;
And the wind, even the wind moves us
To sing to each other:
Of oily black feathered drongos,
Of nights punctured
with starlight.
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