Lions Mane

An acorn fell upon the Earth
a fertile crack a timely birth
a cradle that was once a grave
a sprout, a whip, a living stave

Growing ever towards the sun
the sapling sprints ahead to run
waving in the windy air she
finds the canopy most fair

Branching out with every breath
first the height and then the width
casting cover blue green shade
cools the land her leaves to lay

Filters air with each expire
haze that drifts far from the mire
til the sun can shine like silver
dancing leaves of joy reveal her

Sets a feast of mast in season
birds and chipmunks squirrels will seize them
even humans sometimes able
find a place beneath her table

Lays her body down at last five
hundred years and more have past
since the sprout unfurled her leaves
emerged from velvet satin sheaths

Cradled on the fertile ground
the place of birth where life is bound
subtle matrix web of veins
her memory tomorrow dreams ~