l’arbor
for I might like to know
the language of the trees
to speak out among them
upon the windly breeze;
but perhaps,
that is only a curtain call
and the elemental communication
resides in roots-
right beneath us all.

notes… there is a quiet thing about trees, you could swear you hear whispers sometimes, sure, that is probably my imagination but… maybe not… this one just popped in my head, I swear it is the strangest thing, I do panic at times like “man, I haven’t posted in like “x” days”… I truly try to not think about it and let it all happen naturally, but I am human, I let it go as much as I can but this is an honest space, so I don’t mind telling you I am not 100% on my mission to be pure, meaning I just want to post and forget about likes and all that, I have been doing this long enough where it should kick me in the brain to let it all go, but those chains… it takes shedding and getting used to, but I am working to just post my work with no refrain… in my head the rationale is there, I should not care at all, not caring in terms of just laying myself bare… I know in my head that in 100 years none of this will matter, it is just getting my grey matter to accept that hard cold fact and just be … a tree. like “here I am”, period… that’s my goal, that is why I post unedited material, just the source, me the spiggot, just trying to get that damn virtual Brita filter over my maw…