great grandmother tree

at first and at last i imagine i speak as surely i must being some human freak recreated in a squirrel form not so very different from the old me except that i can t really think like this but it is our dream yes and perhaps i am thinking as i stare into my old eyes having lived another life a good one in the greening home of i heard tell my greatest relations and their most fantastic days oh so many generations in the same oaks and hickories scrambling in and out of life in and out of our mother trees building nests of their leaves eating and planting their children safe in their hearts some always survive the hawks the snakes the coons and cats the coyotes the mothers and fathers of all sorts i myself have eaten birds growing in their egg and bugs and have gnawed the bones of brethren killed by brethren but some always survive and we are always one in our dutiful prayer of life as is the man staring at this body he has broken with his shell perhaps i will return as the bright blue egg of the thrush that fills the air and heart beating its blood into the ground and telling our mother just what it might like to be someday "I reckon it will be me, myself. Yes, it'll be me."quote from Langston Hughes way out of context a challenge poem Written February 5th, 2002 © on Feb 05 2002 04:24 AM PST, Frederic Jacob Gutknecht IV   10 • 0