The Forest Before the Frame

Before the log, the rafter or the plank,
The post, beam or even sharded splintered stake,
Came sprouting seedlings snug and warm,
In soil nurtured by the falling rain.
Sheltering thicket grown unchecked,
Keeper to the sprouting saplings’
Rooting tendrils digging deep dirt paths.

Slim gray boles with branches bursting,
Through the thickened carpet brown and green,
Muck and mud, weed and moss alike.

Spindly sprigs with outstretched wings,
Catch a sudden cloudburst dripping drops,
Under an elder conifer’s thickened canopy.

The scent of bark, suckling’s sap or seeded cone
Gives rival to nature’s bountiful floral bouquet.
A wellspring of joy and eagerness weaves
The pedigree of the forest before the frame.


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