The Tree Hugger

 

leaning against a tree
messaging a friend
absent-mindedly she gently patted the tree trunk
the breeze
the breeze was a colour
the colour of its sound
and the sound was the scent of dappled canary sunlight..

leaning against the tree
she began to feel in the strange flow
a tree as ancient as english pagan wisdom
the bark as soft as parchment of an ancient scroll
the bark as cool-warm as triptychs kissed by summer solstice
the bark as flowing as the secret river under the pyramids of giza
the bark as mysterious as the woman veiled of cydonia..

leaning against the tree
she gazed up at the veined leaves lit by fire life
the lime leaves dipped in outlines of constellations
the branches lowering arms
the arms circled and curved
the arms brushed around her like velvet on night
the velvet embraced her air
her air embraced arms
she embraced the embrace
and the leaves kissed her
all of the tree
and all of the tree her every forest..