Eastering Tree

A beauty so severe

it winds me: I expire at

the sight of spring budding on

this Eastering tree – afraid to inhale,

I tarry ‘twixt the to and fro of breath.

 

This arboreal poem drips with

artistry as sap bleeds

new life into each fetal leaf, roots

raising earth’s riches to trunk, to crown holding forth

the promise of shade,

of oxygenation:

counter pointing carbon.

 

This hymn to hope

empties me of myself and so

fortifies my knowing

that this moment need not be

bested, this being arrested

by new life pulsing from tomb to womb

to the room I find on this day

beneath boreal arms in prayer, bearing

witness to Easter’s pledge.

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11 thoughts on “Eastering Tree

  1. Marie Taylor says:

    I especially like “this moment need not be bested.” That is contentment.

  2. shoreacres says:

    I found myself wondering if any painter or visual artist had portrayed the cross abloom. And then I remembered — there are congregations where the cross is adorned with flowers on Easter Sunday. All of those congregations should have your poem as an accompaniment, a way to deepen the experience of their tradition.

  3. diannegray says:

    Wonderful, Allen. I particularly liked “by new life pulsing from tomb to womb”. Very nicely done 😉

    • agjorgenson says:

      Glad you liked that! The photo on my blog is of the tree that inspired the painting, and this winter it was subject to a horrid ice-storm that robbed it of too many limbs. The buds are so very full of hope!

  4. jannatwrites says:

    This is beautiful! I read a few times, and kept settling on this part: “this moment need not be bested, this being arrested by new life pulsing from tomb to womb.” The renewal is captivating- every time.

    • agjorgenson says:

      Thanks Janna, i kind of like this bits as well. The idea that there is no need to run off after another spiritual experience. Settle in this one given for this time: it is enough.

  5. I like your poetry more with every new piece, Allen, and I liked it to begin with. The slightly spoken-word rhythms of this one really resonated.

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