Poetry

When You Meet A Teacher Tree

Drip. The bend of a leaf drops.

is it a throne
is it a chair
who can tell
there’s too much tied to it
too many threads to follow
back home, we call it
you wouldn’t understand anyway
it holds no.

Between an inhale and an exhale
The gavel fell heavy
No longer a May
No longer a bee
The final answer.

Last year, during my music voyages and explorations, I bumped into the soul-penetrating music of Mereba..