by Steve Tanham
Stark, naked, the long cold night of winter
Draws my will to live in shapes
Whose beauty lies in number,
Unseen to hands that touch
My rough and dusty bark…
———-
The limit of life is my companion
As pale sun begins to feed
Across the stellar miles
And seeks – within the rough
And blackened frame –
The tiny hiss of sap.
———-
My roots, abused but warm
–though not to you,
Are wed in size to what is yet to come.
A sphere of growth so dense
That acres were required
To lay its workings level.
———-
Turn, shrink and turn again
My mantra to the burrowing sun
His breath, my thrust, as space is filled
With longing maps of future green
And laughter – unheard by man
Ghosts our dance, impossibly tactile
Whose hidden name is fractal.
———-
©Stephen Tanham 2024
All photos taken and processed on an iPhone 12 ProMax.
Stephen Tanham is a writer-photographer and mystical teacher. He is the founding Director of the Silent Eye, which offers a journey of the soul guided by lessons, inner guidance and outer companionship.
There are two blog streams:
(mystically-oriented writing)
and
(general interest, poetry, humour and travel)
Sun in Gemini 
Beautiful, Steve. What stunning imagery, and mysterious.
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Thank you, Michael. That means a lot.
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