AGINCOURT’S SEED

Cathedral-like, arching upwards
with the sense of root and ground like iron magnets holding
strong and sure
and oh so safe, embraced in that ancient loving
all the grooves and nooks, with hobbit apertures
and great slanting window-pools
of scudding cloud, sun-shot raindrops, bluebellblue
lofted above and dwelt within
where owl ledges, bat rafters,
tangle like veins and old, lined skin
with a multitude creaturely denizens
and vagrant fronds of freshest green implanting on tiny shelves and crannies
while the stillness, ah! such a silence that shouts in the bones
sending choruses of resonance shafting up the spine
in lightning dazzle
yet weighted like a golden nugget, incorruptible
a pendulum, gravity-spun, plummeting direct to the deepest earth core
its’ radiant pulse, harp strung wherever its note is struck
thrumming and sky-larking in every sacred atom
and spec of DNA.

Just an old tree, they say.
Did you measure it’s royal girth?
Register it in the proper book?
Take your snapshots?
……..in case one could possibly forget

or fail to re-visit

when it is already sealed in the archives of the soul

imprinted in the mind with every scent and sense

alive and timeless.

All to be done, space-hopped in a twinkling

from whatever platform of disenchanted, man-constructed realm

is needed
woomph!, instantaneously through the wormhole

to find toes softly wriggle, curling in the rich bark-dust

the wind soughing outside

its fingers of longing sifting through the bird-sung branches

while that great, breath-snatching embrace all round, surrounds

holding so still, so heart-beatingly still

transmuting all temporal and linear memory from triviality

into enormous presence.