To be restricted yet unbound
our tutors are the trees:
their rooted stature plows the sky
and drinks a water breeze
that drifts unwatched through darkened clays
till it extracts a leaf
from that rich matrix, like a joy
spun patiently from grief.
Green tides sweep onward, grove on grove,
like twinkling star greets star,
like minds that till the local soil
to guess what planets are.