9/12/19

DREAM FOR US



When a tree falls in the forest

is it mourned by its standing survivors

the vibrations it made indistinct 

as the memory of a thunderclap?


Does the question become 

not whether a tree makes a sound

if it falls without anyone around

to hear it, but rather, is there even such

a thing as the ground when that appears

to be gathered from our perception?


Not even the forest suspects this much

least of all the trees, each one of whom, 

for instance, may believe they are the king 

of all existence. In whose dream, then

may a leaf be heard to fall, again?


Listen up.  Without you

there can be no story.  


A very old tree totters over 

into the wildwood far away

with a sound approaching 

the memorial of thunder

to its standing survivors.


Around the edge of the bay

outspread in their foothold

through funereal compost

melding with rotten mold 

a blue unreal mossy fungus 

spreads out and grabs hold.


Under the loam of bedrock

another microtone gets added

to the layers in the chorus 

of their growing forest song.