I look at a tree and I find it taller than any man I’ve ever met or heard or told or read about
In its stance I find more meaning than in any word or phrase I’ve ever uttered
I look at it stand in the harshest of suns and watch its canopy cover all arguments with space to spare for some sparring sparrows
In its shadows I find the flesh of all philosophies pecked at, eaten and dropped back to the soil as nutrients for nematodes
I look at a tree and how I wish for squirrels to run up my back for owls to nestle in my armpits for a hard lignin to cover my ears and my eyes and for my hands to fall upwards where starlight beckons.