I Asked To Be Lush, To Be Green

I Asked To Be Lush, To Be Green

I asked to be lush, to be green. I pressed myself to the clear glass between wanting and world. I wanted to be lush, tropical, excessive. To be green. On the glass that does not exist, small breath-clouds rose, dissolved. A creature of water, I found myself. Tender, still also of air. The dry bark of trees sequestered its hidden rising. I told my want: patience. I offered my want the old promise— a tree not wet to the touch is wet to the living.

Poet: Jane Hirshfield
Source: @Terrain.org
Books: @AbeBooks

A tree not wet to the touch is wet to the living.

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