I found a tree.
Later, a yoga student asked my why I hadn’t shared a poem in a while.
And then I found a poem:
The Copper Beech
BY MARIE HOWE
Immense, entirely itself,
it wore that yard like a dress,
with limbs low enough for me to enter it
and climb the crooked ladder to where
I could lean against the trunk and practice being alone.
One day, I heard the sound before I saw it, rain fell
darkening the sidewalk.
Sitting close to the center, not very high in the branches,
I heard it hitting the high leaves, and I was happy,
watching it happen without it happening to me.
Thank you, Marie and the Poetry Foundation.