Conversation with a Tree
by David Dephy
Night is fading.
Somewhere a voice echoes.
Dawn floods in from afar
and I fix my eyes, place my palms
on the gnarled skin of an oak tree.
I feel the light channel through her veins
as the north wind tears away her leaves.
“It’s how I fly,” she murmurs.
“Who can survive all their desires?”
I ask. “Most of us just can’t get
through them.”
“And who can see you?”
The tree replies.
“Only those of us who feel
the light all the way
down into our roots.”