Kevin Trent Boswell: tree

tree

12 angels all ‘round the white tree

whirling, revolving... merrily

7 gods dance inside the inner ring

through a divine geometry they sing

stars, cubes and triangles complement

forms are forged, broken or bent

impulses forged into solid form

an orbiting of fragmented shells, aswarm

36 roots plunge deep into hell, bottomless

72 branches reach up for the abyss

deep within the concentric rings of the tree

if able to discern in the dark, one might see

another band of gods and angels do swing

around a similar, black tree, and sing

outside the concentric band of spheres

if one listens closely, a faint whisper he hears

of yet another song, sung in wicked delight

of shapes and structures that covered the light

allowing darkness to brew and cook

in cool, dank pocket, corner and nook

if not too bored, confused or tired,

perceive just how far these songs have conspired

inward and outward, in every direction

songs of right, wrong and correction

left, up, forward, right, back and down

pictures swirl, from sole to crown

so much, so fast, so slowly occurring

through thought and feeling, swim without stirring

one’s position might come to be

believe all of it and none of it, simultaneously

this stance without standing might bring to you friend,

knowledge without knowing, of beginning without end

Written on Christmas Eve, 2017

in Wilmington, NC