i stand between two trunks
and borrow their stillness,
which they are happy to share.
Their joy is like no other:
deeply rooted yet still reaching: solid.
The bark, wordless and rough –
doesn’t give in and
doesn’t push back.
What more is there than this?
The seeming flurry and slurry
of problems sink down into the earth
or travel up into the leaves –
dabble dance
light and
shade – upon my feet.
You could charge by the hour, tree,
but you are paid in full
with no hand out –
in sun,
in rain.
If only people knew,
they would
line up outside the gate,
come in one by one,
leaning themselves up
as needed.
They could stay as long as they liked,
learning not to
fear uncertainty.
If you wonder,
can i bear another spring?
another summer?
If there is not food of the world
that feeds you anymore –
lean into the space you have made
don’t rush to understand –
learn a thing from this
double-trunk tree.
Life as Improv 