Cedar

It feathers the sky

with enquiring branches

this monarch of the park.

Its roots interrogate

the soil

the subterranean sustenance

to keep its aged sovereignty.

Its sanctuary majesty

a roost, a home,

a roof for adolescent adventure:

the transient puberty

of love

that breaches its bark

with an affectation

of initials.

The trunk in scuffled scratches

demonstrates the hunger

of smaller souls

and the tit-for-tat

bartering of squirrel and bird.

But what lies hidden

beyond its bastion bark,

beyond the scan of eye,

in its heartwood soul,

arboreal bone and sinew

and wisdom of its age ?