i want to be reborn as a mighty old mother oak tree...watching the twist and swirl of life currents,
earth spirals on tree time...
to feel seasons pass as if dreams, upon waking finding a new dream to dream,
feel the rotting of leaf matter feeding, and the fleeting burst of mushrooms rising to the occasion...
to know the dark secret heart of Her, to touch with outstretched roots the firey creation of her fecund womb
to caress with leafy fingers aloft, along with moonshine, and cloud mist, the miracle of her ceaseless respiration
to taste the raindrops and summer dew as the sweet nectar that falls from her breast
and feel the snowy down, the cocoon for metamorphosis
from dying, to birthing, to living.
the fruit that falls, endless potential,
neverminding the bears and boars that consume them,
making pregnant with the seed of my tree soul,
to birth again, a new potential
My dreams transformed to fruit in the alchemy of life eating life.