Photo: the majestic Karri trees at Boranup.
The dVerse Prosery is hosted this week by Merril and the line to use is “These memories were left here with the trees.” from ‘How to Write a Poem in a Time of War.” by Jo Harjo. Using that line create a piece of prose of 144 words.
I wonder what happened here before I am. This one tree might speak of so much. But what might a forest speak? A grove of knowledge no cloud could carry, a living intelligence that pales Plato, or the vast paucity of philosophy. Each bole a reliquary of life’s passage, each annual ring a repository of a truth greater that the sum of what we call knowledge. O to be grounded in the strength of your heartwood and risk the sky, or to shelter in your caress and know love, to know what you know, to sup from your fount. Evanescent, history passes, held by your compassionate gaze. Of owls and wars, lovers and seasons, for each an ossuary caringly covered by your blankets and, until the one who knows as you know, that only love uncovers, these memories were left here with the trees.
©Paul Vincent Cannon