A stroll in the park

Oh there is a peace that
Blows out my core and
Shakes every pip in its
Case

Oh there is a place in my
Bark that creaks when I
Stretch out my feet on
Air

A pace made of peace is
My breath as it breaks
Space between each step’s
Brace

Hallowed trees

When branches sink their roasted
Leaves into next Spring’s earth

The Dead meet the Saints and Winter’s
Angels light the leafless dark.

Deciduous awe

In the bark there is a
Swirl,
Press it, let its edges round
Yours,
Look down the avenue’s
Trees
With wind reaching in, to
Spine,
To the roots of your soul
Twined
To Earth’s grace, rolling on  
Round itself, round the sun,
a God.