Olive Tree Treaty

I want to plant an olive tree
In the yard.
Don’t know how long it will take to bloom,
But I want to make a start
Tomorrow.
Fill the short days of my public life
With the expectation of its birth,
Wonder through the long stretches
Of my unconsciousness
Over the mysteries of growing,
Imagine the powers of genesis
At work.

Because, I know it.
Somewhere, sometime
In days past,
Between the seed and the soil,
Spear and space,
A treaty of peace was signed:
The earth would claim autonomy no more;
The seed would admit the utter loneliness
Of its torrential strength.

It must have been a special night
The night of the treaty
With even the moon
Mating with the sky
Not as a king his subject
But as a noble knight
His loved one.

When this special night comes again
I will leave the garment of my knowledge
Loose
For nudity to enter us
And clothe us both
In harmony.

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