from the canopy on a thread
to leaf litter where they
wildly throw themselves around
as if panicked for direction
yet are rooted on four rear feet
to then scrunch forward
in some bewildering quest.
After a few days – a gossamer
of colors nick the pine needles
colors that startle you
like Van Gogh’s prisoner in the painting,
were he to look up, instead of just
going round and round shackled
to his orbit of gloom, look up the tower
to a few bricks near the window
that refracts beams into a rainbow --
Unseen beneficence, light
awaiting the evolution of eyes.
Grass Valley
April, 2007
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