Des Arbres

The first thing you notice is their stature

A musical display of beauty and energy transformed

The details of which are often overlooked as they croon in the breeze

Intricately designed to nourish your body and feed your soul

If your timing is right and you have well trained eyes

 A closer look will reveal their sensual essence

The allure of their flowers will seduce and captivate

Their blooms are a display of their sexual desire

They pull you in with a tantalizingly ephemeral display of love

The fruits therein possess powerful knowledge

Hanging tenuously, plump with secrets, and ripe with experience

Its history transcends this life as it falls, released from bondage

Creating and Informing generations and yet the cycle is repeated

reaching to the heavens craving warmth and connection

Grasping the wind, they dance with the breeze

Not a formal regimented and regulated prance

More of a free form spiritual and rhythmical movement imbued with grace

There is a purgatorial transition from its ethereal musings

To a base replete with frustration barring the scars of storms past

Its austere design functions in strength and rigid flexibility

What lies in cased in darkness is the source, a matrix of interconnection

The origin of all there is, anchoring and supporting all that will be

With all the accoutrements on display tendency is to devalue things hidden from view

So, enchanted with the innovative adornments little regard is given to the banal structures that fortify

Seen as archaic and functional, it’s the beautifully adorned spectacle above that garner all the praise

And romantic stories as lovers oft sit at the base thinking not of that which dwells beneath

tis with raised heads and open hearts that their eyes gaze upon the perceived truth of its being

Yet, below conceals a transcendent fundamental and spiritual reality.

That which others cannot see, or experience directly is who we truly are

All of our ideals, feelings, and motivations exist beyond what others can authentically experience

Much is the same in this instance

Stored beneath a rough bark are the details

Each ring a rigid tale of lives lived in previous seasons

Layers of survival incased in a sinfully sweet sustenance

Growing bidirectionally, inward and out

For a root neglected shall never sprout


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