THE FALL OF THE LABYRINTH OAK

Inside, outside,
upside, down,
memory of growth,
longing for renewal,
stones, flames,
shadow, sun,
wide oak tree arms embrace and shelter.
Hanging chimes, a swinging monk,
torches, candles, acorn shells.
Leaves crunch, weeds prosper,
distant birds call us to prayer.
Dappled sunlight, breathing deeply
Earth’s music settles over me.
Far winds cause leaves to chatter,
speaking names, butterflies leap,
searching for unspent blossoms.
Sagging limbs grip dying leaves,
grand old trunk, moss-covered bark.
Dead leaves caught in summer’s spider webs,
dancing, longing to fall to home.
Filtered light slashes through forest timbers,
rage against cruel winter’s return.