She places flowers ‘round that stump in the yard,
a spring altar she seasonably colors.
It was once a magnificent tree
embedded in the soil and memory.
The bark long gone and the wood blanched gray,
withstands a spirited sun and freezing rain.
Their offering it takes;
an ancient spirit has her decorate.
At her task she piously kneels,
looks up in greeting, sits back on her heels
to talk. The sweat gleams on her chest,
a figure on a cross between her breasts.
My thoughts run in circles,
likely give me away.
Standing above her, shifting my weight
one hip to the other. I can’t suspend
my thoughts or posture of desire for this friend.
Am I blasphemous
in envy of Jesus,
his body prone
upon her glistening skin?
Alive with her breathing,
I want to be as close as him.
Am I irreverent
with thoughts so pleasant?
No devil has my mind occupied.
Glory in heaven!
Permit me to be edified.
We’ve been acquainted through lifetimes it seems,
and I’ve a story: my dream of her tree
when full and forgiving, embracing all life,
a shielding shadow. Paradise.
Feckless birds came to live in its limbs,
proclaimed advantage, allegiance to him,
asserted dominion over the fruit,
Their droppings poison at its roots.
They filled the branches, cackling fools,
misunderstanding twice removed.
With noisy hatchlings they multiplied,
and as they did the tree withered and died….
As I finish she breathes a deep sigh.
The sun sends a spike from the cross to my eyes.
She seems to notice its glare on my face,
impishly smiles and keeps its focus in place.
Am I blasphemous
in envy of Jesus
bright in my gaze
and her provocative play?
Direct me to heaven,
I won’t turn my heart away.
Am I irreverent
With thoughts so pleasant?
No devil has my mind occupied.
Glory in heaven
I want to be edified.
She plies the blooms with confident hands,
fountains of color, their splashes stand
bursting from thin green columns. They spray
brilliantly in her magic array.
My eyes on the symbol, its flash on my face,
and with this vision I feel heaven’s grace.
Elevated, passion increased,
I long to share some of that spiritual peace.
Am I blasphemous?
Tell me Jesus.
My soul yearns
for the ecstasy,
to reach to heaven
from a live and healthy tree.
Am I irreverent
With wishes so pleasant?
It isn’t a devil
has my mind occupied.
Glory in heaven,
let me feel the breadth of her life.
That life…
She can be my guide.
Glory in heaven
I want to be so edified.
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