My savior spirits, in the stilted haunts
Of man, are trees! Oh, lighted loveliness
And shuffling shades, your soft persuasiveness
Awakes in me a half-forgotten ease!
Man’s structured spans eschew what nature flaunts:
A bonhomie of loose, spontaneous parts;
Your humble, feathery, unflustered arts
Confirm that planes are not the way to please.
Blending rooted, trunk-locked gravitas
With leaves like wings of angels, free in flight—
Ungraspable and mutable and light—
Lends you a wholeness lost to brick and stone.
So bend on me with graces as I pass
Into these hard, walled zones of human strain
Lest, for their lacks, they deal me double pain
Now that I’ve felt your quivering in my bone.