Like this tree, half-felled
by storm-wind, let my soul be
split, but not destroyed – see –
boughs, like ballet arms extending,
arch as if intending still more –
this severance allows for greater bending:
wind that wrecked has shaped
a back a neck a head –
once upright, whole, now torn –
another perfection’s born:
a tangled, sweeping reverence.
bowing to unlikely providence
that wrought this dread marvel
of fiat form.
A hidden flaw at core, no doubt,
gave grip for wind to wring
this grace like water out,
cracking this tough, this sheer,
this rigid thing –
new beauty spilt:
Science needs surprises –
Rule, pattern, type
don’t always please your God –
he’s not that kind of deity.
the good’s not always
in what’s done rightly.
Let my soul, half-felled,
be like this tree.
2 responses to “5 September: Fiat”
Thank You Johanna,
This bears rereading time and again.
There is one street tree near us that had its crown torn off by human vandals; it was left for a season, then someone came and pruned it,gave it shape. Now it is beyond such damage, growing on three stems instead of just the one, and beautiful. I’m glad to see my scepticism refuted!
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