Treetops
-for dominic ferrara

O glowing towers of backyard trees
Passing years indiscriminately, pages in books
(and what pages of you, brothers, have I turned)
Me in dry ancestors torn to keep me warm
On which I walk and in which I sleep

Crisp treetop fingers - sweet branches in endless sky
To sit among you - to live mankind's and your dream -
All cry, "Leave the ancient holy mother earth so solid
And spread in supple arms wide with no bondage!"

O what loud human voices, no sorrow for your holy soul
You keep (if any) terrible sighs among yourselves - For

Treetops creak and moan,
But keep so silent,
On sunny days.

Do speak up with all that timeless advice
about things I'm sure your gaze-less eyes have
felt and seen many more times than we.

In that blessed dust of ancient men who held
pure white holiness in eternal nature's flow close
- and o what wide obvious path today we jump from