Treasure Tree

In the meadow, tall and free,

I saw a gnarled treasure tree,

its bark held pockets of moss and more

gifts not found in town or store,

latticed lichen, bugs, each beak

of tiny birds nestled wing to cheek

And by its roots, as was its habit,

a snoozing, brown, bespeckled rabbit,

that promptly raised its sleeping head

and gazed without an ounce of dread,

then slowly hopped away from me,

to lounge at another side of the tree

Against the trunk I leaned full length,

the tree, it lent to me its strength,

and also several curious ants

(I had to brush them off my pants)

I sighed as I stood bark to cheek

and let down fall my heavy week

The week, it landed on springy grass

along with each alack, alas,

right next to a bunch of yellow flowers,

upon which bees hummed for hours,

about nectar, honey, sun and rain,

while I started to feel myself again

I stood in the sunshine at my leisure,

then thanked the tree for every treasure,

though it ran no errands, paid no bill,

had no obligations to fulfill,

simply by standing and being a tree

it gave peace and solace to more than me

Eliel Fionn 2/23/23

Roots

We don’t want

to talk about

those people,

the ones that came

before

It was hard,

being poor,

the war, the work

that chapped the hands

and curved the back

Why remember

the unpleasantness

of their struggles,

when you can focus

on now

But see how my roots

still entwine me,

the fearful folk who fled

their home ground,

unwelcome there

I am bound

by ideas unconscious

but carried

carried into the future

by them, by me

Their blood still pulses

in my veins, they

keep me alive

through every hard

loss

They are the salt

in my blood

that savors me

flavors me,

their sweat, their tears

I am from those

who came before,

though I never knew them-

gone long before

I ever became

I am full

of generations,

even of their joy

in knowing

I carry them still

Eliel Fionn 12/29/23

Found

I found a poem

in the garden

between the watering can

and a row of peas

where the sun

lay glistening

I found a poem

in the park

down the curve

of a slide

and the glee

of a child

I found a poem

under the covers

where my feet

reached past

our warmth

and felt the cold

I found a poem

in my head

but didn’t write

it down,

and then

I forgot every line

But even that

was a poem,

the empty space

that every rhyme

ultimately

disappears into

 2/5/23

Smile

from your bones

and let the structure

of joy move you,

your arms

embracing everything

in half rounds

Smile

from your heart

with closed eyes tilted

up at the corners

and the soft curve

of your shoulders

seeking sky

Smile

from every hair

curling and coiling,

from the soles

of your feet arching

and your fingernails,

quarter moon smooth

Smile

from deep

earth orbiting

underfoot,

to sky bows

from rain

completing their bent

Smile

from your mind

at the thought

of everyone

who has ever

become part

of your smile

1/29/23

Calma

Rest

like a child

or a cat sprawled

wide asleep

That deep relaxation

in which your mind sighs

in relief, your body

sinks into renewal

Rest among the clucking

chickens and birdsong

with the dark night stars

alight

Here, safety

breathes every breath,

time moves snail slow,

nothing is everything

Calma, they say, calma,

when presence stretches time

into always enough

and accomplishes everything

7/25/21

Unwounded

It might be

a stiletto of words

thrust directly

into your heart

It might be

the casual indifference

of someone

who professed to love you

It might be

promises

spoken,

then broken

It might be

the gap between

what you do for love

and for money

It might be

loss after loss

of whatever or whomever

you held dear

Whatever

has filled you

with that hard, sharp, dull

blade of despair

Whatever heavy

weights your shoulders

and crowds

your mind

Whatever has happened,

it isn’t you,

it isn’t the heart

you were born with

It isn’t the you

that delights

in sunsets

and mud puddles

It isn’t the you

that creates

as exuberantly

as any child

If you reach inside

deep, deeper still,

there you are,

yourself, unwounded