Like the blind man of Bethsaida
I see men walking as trees
with shy crowns, keeping their distances
to let the light in
or to not get hurt, or harm another
perhaps
whatever their reasons, the gaps between
them spread like a web of capillaries
across the sky.
Deep below the ground,
their roots reach for each other,
communicating, connecting, consolidating
their knowledge to save each other.
Mugomo trees have roots
so deep and widespread
they hold together the very land;
no wonder sacred spirits might dwell there.
Perhpas there is a reason there are trees
older than Jesus,
trees which can grow
larger than a blue whale.
What intelligence do we fail to recognise
precisely because it is so different to our own?
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