not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011


It is only when you know it
that you know it
it is only when you've suffered
that you can celebrate
only when the pine holds meaning
only when you have stood beneath its boughs
in summer
light flooding out from the limbs
of this giant umbrella
only when the spring rain has plinked
and clung
and last minute declined its dance
only when the boughs like arms
have taken you in
to cut the wind's autumn's whip
only when you have stood beside
the quiet descent of winter's shoulders
laden white boughs
your arms, its arms
there being little difference,
only then will you know 
and then when you know
when you know it in your bones
when your blood adjusts
when your eyes receive
and you forget to fight
only then are you complete.

it has shadow
all day long 
it broods 
it warns 
and if you dare
it excites 
and when you are spent
it holds you
like a lover spooned

and then
you have it
and it has you.