How fanciful the dappled light
gracing chosen leaves.
Like the selective grace of God’s own sight
which old Calvinists believe
I smile at this analogy
My musings have received
‘til I sense a touch of pity
amongst the rustling trees
“Child, have you no dignity?”
The gnarled elm then asked of me
“Must you shelter yourself in endless thought?
Why can’t you simply be?”
“I am man, am I not?
My job is to encode
I must do, therefore, what I ought
for my mind is my abode”
“Your temples are mired in arrogance
for to God you sing your odes
when God is pure existence
he does not reflect like you
and we are of no consequence
nor with meaning are we imbued.
You think your thinking leads to ease
of lives that one day may be true
and though there’s little you cannot seize
Oh, lonely, twisted human
Just listen to the breeze”

With these words the place grew still
and magic left the air
shaken up, I sat down until
the settling of my hair
“What do you know, ancient fool
‘bout the thoughts behind my glare?
Through the weave of old time’s spool
Have you ever left this spot?
You just sit and stare and stare and drool
still you see things you forgot.
As for me, I’m duty-bound;
If I tried, I still could not
for consciousness is a boisterous sound
and will not be drowned out!”
Now, all by myself I found
the resounding of my shout.
The echo fades, the trees grow quiet
babbling brook then called me out
It was in the shade, so I sat by it
It told me the tale of the world
“If you’ll listen, we could try it”