Wednesday, June 29, 2011

A Tree of Dry Leaves (An Orchard Warmth)

Sinking, the pomegranate jewel dissolves
in an orchard warmth, extinguishing
among the dark roots of the good leaves
lining the curve of the bowl.

I do not want it to sink and die.
I want to keep it long alive and watch it
burrow through the stones and wood,
the endless lines of pipes and wires,
until this wet globe splinters from its core,
a dry leaf, an old ornament,
a long-forgotten fragment
reeling in the avalanche of space!

Drifting, the jewel settles
and falls along its course,
sinking into the rift between my hands
and my impenetrable hope,
burning until I break from the center,
a tree of dry leaves, an ancient ornament
dropped at the foot of a blank and ageless wall;
shattered and burned,
rising on the air, utterly still,
entirely at peace in the carrying throes
of the complete freedom
of emptiness.


  1. Sometimes I just feel like I'm repeating myself with words like "elemental" and "beautiful" etc...those apply here, but so do serene and plaintive and powerful. It's always a pleasure reading your work and at the same time, I often feel a moment of regret that I cannot write so well....

    -Alex (T, not A)

  2. You write well enough to flatter the spit out of a fellow poet, my friend. Thank you. :)

    -Dan H.

  3. All I can think of is a pomegranate seed. They're weird.
    And, uncharacteristically, that's more or less all I have to say about this poem because I feel completely lost in it.

  4. I very much like it. The imagery is rich, and it really makes me ponder the overall thought and scene.