Giant Sequoia
My entire eight hundred and forty-two months of life
Might be the equivalent of a giant sequoia's eye blink,
As it climbs one of the sky's burnished shafts
And peers into the source of all creation, kisses the sun's lips,
Blending Earth's natural signs with heaven's miraculous wonders.
And if this numinous intuition turns out to be true,
The best my evanescent presence is able to provide,
By way of a supplicant's recompense for his riches of existence,
I'll accept my destiny to be a majestic tree's lesser —
An outsize celebration, nonetheless, of the human heart's blessings.
Tonight, rejoicing in the spirit of the salvific gift
Which descended, yesterday, Pentecost Sunday, upon my flesh,
I sense my soul sprouting new buds and greening shoots,
Just below the upper heights of the sky my psyche breathes,
And realize that the giant sequoia and I know God, eye to eye.
06/13/11
|