meditation on a tree

Part I: Roots

Somewhere underneath the ground
an intricate network of tiny and not so tiny,
massive and not so massive tentacles
bore through the ground
hovering above
the Kingdom of Underworld.

A vast and complicated interlocking pathway
is piping up bits and pieces
of what once were mountains
over the past million years.

Entangled streets of hap-hazardous shacks
clawing on top of each other
are building layer upon layer from
what once were leaves soaked in the rains
and branches frozen in the snows
over the past thousand years.

A multitude of little creatures
is sneaking around to lay their claim
on anything that comes their way
and voraciously digest the remnants
of what once was alive
a few years ago.

A lively Metropolis of Unseen.

Part II: Crown

High above the ground,
arching from a distant left to a further right,
from far ahead to way behind
levitates the Kingdom of Light.

Its celestial zenith
is adorned with a single round sign
that emanates bright warm light during a day,
and at night, as it happens so often,
while shaved off to a gracious sliver of the semicircle,
it calmly projects its noble loneliness.

Bathing in the abundance of light
a trunk carries its branches and twigs
to support the formidable mass
of thin rustling cutouts.

Each of the cutouts
is holding and skillfully balancing in the wind
myriads upon myriads of minuscule buckets
that are capturing colorful bits of light.

The reds, the blues, and few yellows go in,
the greens are shown back
pouring into emerald blend
dressing up the nakedness of the trunk.

A bucket fills up
and its colorful bit of light
bursts out and flows toward a furnace.

The ingredients are already lined up:
a bubbly substance and a bit of water.
The shimmering flow of light
rushes in and arrives as a spark
to ignite the mixture.

A bang of the burst bubble,
a whiff of the evaporated water,
and an instant later -
an air filled with freshness.

Part III: Trunk

In a narrow gap of space
between
the Kingdom of Underworld
and
the Kingdom of Light
a column
wrapped in many layers
maintains its balance between the facing-off worlds,
leaning on the one
and touching the other.

There is no apparent order in layers
from inside out or otherwise,
no obvious sequence in thickness
or in any other kind of appearance for that matter.

Some are smooth,
but not glassy,
and some are rough,
but not sharp.
Some are soft,
but not saggy,
and some are firm,
but not hard.
Some are moist,
but not teary,
and some are dry,
but not flaky.

Apart from that,
they seem to be without odor or scent
and remain silent most of the time
save the occasional rip outcry.

They rather have a feel to each of them
leading to believe in their predetermined purpose
or right to exist.

A meticulously orchestrated illusion
serving a single aim,
covering up an actual reason,
disseminating a detractive idea,
disguising a true intention:

To protect the core of the column
that holds the two universes apart
and prevents them
annihilate each other
into the single
Kingdom of Nothingness.