Saturday, February 15, 2014

Song of the Cedar

The cedar stands alone: an altar
unto herself; a sentinel
amidst the asphalt, abandoned push carts and
idle cars.

Beneath her spiraling presence
and light decked boughs
(yuletide remnants)
traffic fades;
vision expands.

I touch her fibrous coat: rich
earthy tones of dark cherry, chestnut and chocolate; and
trace the cellulose strands beyond reach of human constraint.
Roots become one;
limbs entwine.

I am on the high steppe,
silence moves through me.
Above, a myriad of lights:
constellations of trust,
dance me to my centre.


  1. As if I can feel her "fibrous coat"...amazing and love that tree even though I have hardly met her-feel her through your stories, Thank you!

  2. Thank you, Heather. This cedar has become a cornerstone of magic for me... one I see regularly now as I pass her in walking or on the bus.