On noticing Trees - Tess Joyce

Arriving at dusk, I joined a circle of brothers and sisters I did not know

sharing thoughts as fresh as thawing ice.

Reclining against the flaccid drum of the world, I smelt their flower-scent clothes, 
heard and learnt to melt with words, 
 
saw a spectrum of grey, beyond grey rainbows, full with ash

as the campfire, free from madness, bore babies of truth.

Saw my love, for the first time look fragile as the ceremony closed

and we sang songs like a hunted bird, for the last time -

now, hear our echoes near pine-shaped landscapers

/ see glass buildings, shine like lakes.\

It's not easy to forget, the walls of the forest, rising to the sky like domes -

                                                                                                                such brilliant air and light.

We could design every house, using the trees as our guide.



Indonesia Rainbow Gathering - Bandung, 2011