MEMENTUM TOO

Rain can take a tree down,
And a tree can kill you,
As can enough drops
If they pool or flow,
So don’t be fooled by
Nature’s tranquil aspects
Or buy the mythology of
Your mastery over other
Animals, insects, pathogens,
Small things like your name
Called out in a dream but
It’s by the creature under
Your bed, or the bump
You write off as nothing
Until it becomes a lump
That, untreated or even
After the gold standard
Of care, can fell you like
Precipitation, sun, wind,
Heat, cold, rock, quicksand,
A waste landscape if you plop
There without what you need.

Surprise! If a flagpole falls
From a skyscraper and you
Happen to be hit by it,
You may recognize in a
Flash the wisdom of living
Not for what comes next
But step by step or inch
By inch if you’re crawling.
From the perspective of
Giants or outer-space life
Forms, you may be barely
Making your way across the
Vastness. The sun broils the
Earth’s surface, whose cracks
You must navigate. If only a
Tree enabled you to swing
Over these hungry gaps or
Provided shade, but a tree
Might compete with you
For the remaining water.
Clouds from nowhere
Might shield before a storm.

A storm might bring lightning,
Which could strike you down
Or fried or disabled out there,
Praying for an airlift or other
Unlikely rescue, wondering
If it ever made sense to leave
Your corner, uncover and
Climb out of bed, exit your
Mother’s womb. Raindrops
Keep falling on your tomb,
Slowly eroding that box.
Best, then, to be cremated
Or, better yet, composted,
Churned with dirt and leaves
And worms and such into
The nutrient-rich stuff that
Makes the world in the first
Place, then lets growth take
Place, one form feeding on
Another and being eaten in
Turn, as biology diversifies
But remains rooted in you.