Trees and Roots and Growing Things

Trees and Roots and Growing Things
http://highromance.com/poetry/jbtrott/treeroot/index.htm
A CORNERSTONE PRESS CHAPBOOK
Jon Trott CORNERSTONE PRESS CHICAGO

1994, 2000 Jon Trott. All rights reserved.
First web edition. Cornerstone Press Chicago 939 W. Wilson Ave. Chicago, IL 60640 ISBN 0-940895-33-1
Printed in the United States of America.
97 96 95 94 4 3 2 1
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To Carol, my beloved wife. Your love is the most continuing, tangible clue I'm onto something. Poetry is idolatry refined. --Kierkegaard, StagesOn Life's Way The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing: we know this in countless ways. --Pascal, Pensees
Contents:
A Farmer's Song Love You, Love You The Gardener's Return Love is the Way You Live Kiddles and Riddles Here We Are, Love Thoughts of You in Random Patterns Carol Trott's Lover Moonscape Interlude in Lovemaking A Cup of Coffee Dancer Me A Brief Exploration of the Origins of Love Looking at You Closely in a Horizontal Position Life Burns By Lovers' World Love Has Bad Days Solomon's Folly The Flags of Love Carol's Lullaby Absence of Meaning The Cynic Observes His Sleeping Children There'll Be No Marriage in Heaven Trees and Roots and Growing Things Epistemology I: Preliminary Categories Epistemology II: The Woman and the Half-Baked Philosopher Blow Away Teacher, Teacher The Wonder, All Alive This, and This Words and Kisses A Toast Without A Compass
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Sweet Things and Needful Self-Identification On Experimentation with Static Electricity A Farmer's Song Tell me if you ever saw A field of unripe wheat Thirsting in the summer sun Withered in the tortured heat Tell me if you ever heard The thunder of the storm Or felt the sting of hailstones The wheat fields smashed and torn Tell me if you ever watched A fire consume the grain And smelled the smoke-filled sky A black/blue angry stain Tell me if you ever wept Over remnants of the spring So much planted, so little left Love nothing left to bring Plant the seed again Plant the seed again Plant the seed again No way of knowing but to believe Plant the seed again.
(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved
Love You, Love You Across the space of who I am The gap I fill a mote in Reality's eye I see you standing, walking, moving, talking And wonder how you feel inside What your thoughts are as I stand, greasy-haired Running my fingers absently across The stubble of that absurd thin mustache Love you! Says the voice You turn and speak
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And I dream of being one Your white dress The quiet warmth together afterward And down along the inner paths Where a man's thoughts roam, his own Yet so easily taken captive By Cheap Desire's multitudes (Even Solomon's wisdom wasn't enough) I walk now as an older child The baubles of sin still glitter But I know a cheap imitation when I see one Like the cricket's chirping More insistent when one is most silent I hear love's whispers Echoing in the chambers of this Flesh and blood place And I watch you and wonder At the symmetry of normalcy The shouts of children The shyness of your smile which says You wonder at love, too Love you, love you Says the small voice But build the fire slowly I will I say and pray For in the window your reflection Reminds me of His gracious paths The holocaust of rejection So recently escaped The promised land of love Just now being entered.... Let me be worthy--no, merely obedient To the way of love And no other way, high or low Let me woo this woman As Boaz wooed Ruth And the lover his Shulammite I love love Too much to harm its slumber Enough to praise its power Enough to act on its behalf Love you, love you Says the still voice I whisper Love you, too.
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The Gardener's Return Our hearts rose and so converged Upon their object of desire Who in turn made of them one Filled with joy and faithful fire And rooted in his endless love Our soul-seeds twined their tiny leaves Round and round each others' lives For love alone all things believes So we live in love's own garden Not the flowers with their charms Seasons see them fade and perish When cold wind their blossom harms We, two trees, will lean together Knowing sun and wind and rain Sheltered in each others' arms Until the Gardener comes again
Love is the Way You Live Dancing slowly, here she comes Across the mem'ry of my mind Smiling shyly, winking slyly My attention is confined To her face and to her passions To her hopes and to her dreams To her kisses, my sweet missus The way she is is how she seems Tender is the way she woos me Slender is the hand I hold Love the garland round her tresses Shining story Christ foretold
Kiddles and Riddles What does me wriggling my nostrils mean? Why do you laugh when I do it? What do you think when I'm hiding unseen And you scream when I jump though you knew it?
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What do you think when I flop on the couch Right when you're losing your mind Children are crying, and inside you're sighing Are you sure I'm the best you could find? What do you think when I burp like a pig, Then mumble 'Excuse me--please pass the bread'? Would you like to examine my stomach's insides Or maybe examine my head? What do you think when Christopher laughs At tales of mine, a dark ploy He could have been such a wonderful child But I'm busy creating a BOY The girls are weeping, Trev made them mad Can you really quite blame him? He was taught by his dad Disgusting, revolting, pigheaded, and strange Are these some nice words to describe me? You insist I'm nice but it's clear as thin ice Love's stricken you hard--you can't see!
Here We Are, Love It is easy to love When love is easy going But harder to love When love itself is tried Trembling love Love stuttering before pain Afraid to love well Because wells are deep places Blinded love Love without insurance Faith urging "Take the leap!" Poor love wants to go home Here we are, love Here we are In Christ In love In Christ's love.
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Thoughts of You in Random Patterns The darkness Over us like a cool breath Your shoulder bare Against my face Movement Silence Except for your heartbeat Words without importance for now You kiss me softly I hold you fervently Glad in a wordless way I love you so This moment... for eternity
Carol Trott's Lover You sting my soul with longing Hair, eyes, and lips My rainbow's end me? I'm just Carol Trott's lover Blessed by grace And the kindness of a woman Whose face always turns toward me Why do I deserve this? There's no reason Except the love of the Heavenly Father for Carol Trott's lover
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Moonscape The craters of existence Blurt out their citizens In the city heat where truth lies In the vacuum where compassion dies Here Is where Fear Rules. The arid surface of the streets Offers footing to spacemen with guns No life exists without oxygen No life survives a world in sin Here Is where Fear Rules. Yet rumors of a distant rain A desert changed to green fields Some say there will be dreams I hold you in love's endless streams Here Is where Fear Loses. Yes, it is true There is a God Two lovers can remain in love There is life on the moon
Interlude in Lovemaking Garbage/shopping/ shelving/cannedgoods/brush teeth/sacklunch
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/argueroomdecor/talktalk/ spanking if youkeepdoingthat/ where'smycoffee/paintthat/did youseemyglasses/turnthatdown... lloveyou nowdidyouseethoseglasses...

A Cup of Coffee Three men, meeting by chance on a train, discussedwomen they considered to be the finest. The first, young and handsome, told of the wonderful girl he'd met in Paris. She'd been a model therefor a year, and was as good a lover as she was a looker.The second man, solid and respectable, told of the woman who'd worked with him on an important project, and had come up with a solution that had eludedhim. He dated her after that, and she was as lively atparties as she was focused on the job. The third man seemed uninterested in the discussion. After chiding from his new acquaintances, and amoment where he scrubbed at a slight stubble on hischin, he spoke at last. He told of hiswife, a completelover, a great friend, a hard worker, and more. Whatmore, the others asked. "When I come home at night, hesaid, she's beenwith four children, done our wash,tidied our home... and she alwaysserves me a cup ofcoffee with cream while I just sit there." He twistedshyly at the wedding band on his thin finger. The other two stared politely. A cup of coffee doesn't seem like a lot, one ventured delicately. Ah, but that'swhere you're wrong, said the third man. Love in Paris isa quick affair, no worries for you and hopefully none forher. Love at work and at play is nothing; nothing isdemanded of either of you. But how long will either ofyour women care for you after they see you, day in andday out? Willthe model care about you if your looksfade? Will you care for her?Will your office friend carefor you if you are demoted, maybe fired?Will they makeyou a cup of coffee ten years from now? And shouldeither of you have the nerve to ask for it? Embarrassed at his outburst, the third man satback, silent in his seat. No more was said for the rest ofthe evening until they neared the city. A railway employee approached and asked if anyone wanted anythingfrom the buffet. "Coffee," the first two men blurted inunison. The railway man turned to the third man,expectant. "No, I'll wait," he said.
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Dancer Me Spin me around in your arms Let me feel your hands upon my shoulder blades Take me against your small warm body Dance with me until we weary Tell me of your love for me I'm not tired of hearing it from your inmost heart Whisper how you feel tonight Against my shoulder, head on my chest We are not young as some lovers count youth We are slow to claim great things And quick to bow when circumstance blows Bow, not break, for love endures all
A Brief Exploration of the Origins of Love Where does love begin and end? is a general sort of question Undeserving any serious answer Debated among bachelors and lechers The conversation revolves around Beauty Sensuality Wit (Not too much, thank you) Social grace Love comes by different paths in different ways and through different doors Love of soul is urged upon us by King David Who, despite other wives, desired Abigail for her humble wisdom And what of the proverbial writer who praises a woman of industry and moral fortitude? Invisible attributes to the undiscerning fool but the first requirement for a man weary of the world's stupidity and desirous of a fully human being Love of God
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is urged by example in the case of nearly every Scriptural heroine (even when they failed) Eve, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah, even Rahab when the chips were down So there it is Admire a woman for the unseen first Because haven't we been worshipping a Heavenly Lover Who remains unseen until the end comes? Only then will we see face to Face But now we must see face to face Heart to heart being the more difficult requirement For some, this conversation is beside the point For others, it is the point at which love blossoms between man and woman and between man, woman, and God
Looking At You Closely in a Horizontal Position Your eyes' depth deepening, a glance Wisps of gray fog swirling in Their coffee brown insight, Soul -caresses Scattered out around your pillowed head Your hair's rich mahogany Across mocha shoulders and the white sheet Olive skin, salt and sweet perfume Face hidden, my lips imbibe A nourishment complete, So sweet it hurts
Life Burns By The wick blackening
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as sooty dreams spiral ceilingward and flame jumps high then sputters Dies Darkness reclaiming The wick igniting as the match's touch brings light and flame's flickers Shadow Dance Love Bright overwhelming The candle shrinking But always dark to light again and you are mine As wick to Flame New conflagrations
Lovers' World I thought of you alone at night I dreamt of you in broad daylight I slept with you in purest youth And kissed your lips in love's one truth I danced with you beside the flame I walked with you and knew no shame I crawled with you when Evil ruled And crowned you when Love had him fooled I saw you in the deepest sea And took you home to be with me And in my arms I held you, bride A lovers' world now undenied I'll touch you once and then again I'll ask not what there might have been I'll hold you fiercely 'til the end When Death himself for one will send Then I'll say good-bye, or you And still our love remain, and true Christ the final Word has spoken
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Death the lie, our love unbroken
Love Has Bad Days Where do we find it That moment of joy Bracketed between the mundane sorrows Heaped on ourselves, by ourselves? We know we love And yet, show our scars From a dance we thought was love's Until indifference, masked as hatred, Stole the show and rang down the curtain You tired, tired and grouchy Wondering why I'm not more attentive I, impatient, unfull of the Spirit Embracing unease and harshness out of habit While Christ waits in the wings For us to quit ad-libbing And if this doesn't seem like a love song... Read it again. Love has bad days, too.
Solomon's Folly "See, this is what I found, says the Teacher, adding one thingto another to find the sum, which my mind has sought repeatedly, but I have not found. One man among athousand I have found, but a woman amongall these I have not found." They tell me I must rule you Subjugate you Shepherd you firmly And protect you from yourself They dare to tell me They tell me you are inferior Weaker, I am superior
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My pride says, "Amen!" But alone I ponder their words We walk before men who judge Who lay down law as gospel And neglect Christ's love (Am I one of them?) I reject these foolish men These arrogant and violent men Mongers after power They have Satan in their souls I want to lead, and be led To love, and be loved To shepherd, and be shepherded By love's example At last I can love and be loved By a woman after God's own heart Whose ear inclines to my meager wisdom As the flower bends to the sun Oh, lover! Oh, friend! Your light emanates from the Eternal And your submission from freedom I, your husband, wear a crown Fashioned in your strong and willing hands Placed there by God's favor And your choice Solomon . . . eat your heart out!
The Flags of Love i. When the breeze flaps the flags Of lovers and soldiers And the enemies meet on the field Blood is spilled In a game between actors with swords Love is forfeit Dreams speed-read Blind man's reach
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Grasped, twisted, and left empty Who will love the loveless When the lovers don't find The mystery they sought? You lie crumpled A white dress wrinkled Like a lover's handkerchief A wound too deep for words Still asks What is it I wanted? What is it I have lost? ii. I listen absently while reading the paper You chatter of children, and plans for the weekend You slow, stop, waiting for an answer Then rise and begin quietly cleaning Who are you, gentle stranger Heart patient with love for this fool poet? The talk I call "chatter" is of children, and us, and God Reflections of a pure inner heart Of love I don't quite apologize But take you in my arms and listen While you tell me again.... Once, you were wounded, and I--despite myself-became your balm of healing Your golden love God wrapped around my arm A bracelet of exquisite beauty I wear proudly before men I see you dancing in my mind The gentle maid I married Raises her banner of love over me And I surrender, taken by her love
Carol's Lullaby Goodnight my beloved, my woman, my self I pray for your sleeping
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That it will bring health I give you this small kiss And strange as it seems I will be with you To dance in your dreams Goodnight, my fair lady, my virgin, my bride I pray for your sleeping That none be denied I give you all blessings and hold all alarms You'll sleep here safely Inside my love's arms Goodnight, my one woman, my mother, my child I pray for your sleeping Pure, undefiled I give you my true love A soft, hidden nest Lay your head by my heart Wrap warm in its rest
Absence of Meaning There is a void Cynics call "love" Why do sinners Hunger and thirst? Answer: the meaning Or lack thereof Strong, the image Man-beast cursed Violence, decay Wages, new chrome Truth twice denied In this word "love" Will meaning stay Wisdom's not home Words belied Sacrificed dove Self's universe Mammon makes deals Lust blinds the blind A self-mutilation Cling, my darling Christ's Word reveals
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My need, our love A true revelation Of their lack of it
The Cynic Observes His Sleeping Children tenderly, gently, softly creep into the room where children sleep what are the dreams of youth parading? what is the sound of childhood fading? oh how the years pass doubt building bridges on dreams left undone oh how the tears pass the older I get the more quickly they run easy to mock when life is your toy but teaching a child to mistrust is no joy the gods of the godless are unrealistic faced with faith in the heart of a mystic oh how the truths pass guilt building bridges on secret dark deeds oh how the youths pass secure in their ignorance, numb to their needs sleep, my child, you clue from love's page I hunger for truth yet listen to lies is there a child, Holy-Ghost-borne to rescue a man filled with terror and sighs?
There'll Be No Marriage in Heaven Oh, my love, remember. Christ said there'd be no marriage in heaven. I know the thought is shocking For God to take back what He's given But think on this before you pout Allow your darling to figure it out Romance a gift, the best our Lord gave us (Except for Himself and His Church) Between us is ravishing love for a life
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And desire's fast-found when we search So imagine a heaven where sex is a bore! The things God must have awaiting in store! We'll still be true lovers, but in some new way Where some great pleasure waits--who can say? So think on this before you cry Allow your darling to offer his why You don't like my reasons and high-soundingtalk? You don't want to lose me to heavenly love? Oh, darling, it was heaven who made of us one And who made all our pleasures of touch so much fun Heaven will be for eternity My love is from you and for you from me This theologian's at loss to not make you cross So... lets make sweet love! Close the door!
Trees and Roots and Growing Things The sudden intake of breath Seeds blown from the pale tree And the branches scrape and groan Like newborns or ancient dying voices Beating against mortality and Winter's chill, already upon me Our voices in a crescendo of sound Inarticulate, like the seed and the ground Springing from giving and taking and loss Our pneuma outbreathed into the other's flesh With the moan of birth and sigh of death And all of this springing from merest caress This the full depth of human tenderness We share knowledge of mystery's need Branching from pure ecstasy's creed As we stand, two trees, trunks blended Each grown on its own, yet clinging, bound We interweave to be lost and found Still I don't know the unknowable you The brilliantly real and unworldly true You, the dark trunk of my experience The whispering leaves of my childhood Summed up and formed into human likeness I penetrate, penetrate, penetrate
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Down the pale root of beingness Into the earth's bowels Searching for significance in the act And in the completion of the act Searching for heaven to fill the hurting And to cope with the knowledge of death Approaching relentlessly We grow, twisting together toward the sky
Epistemology I: Preliminary Categories Knowledge cannot be wished for. It must be read about and retained in the reader's mind. Or it must be experienced and that experience be understood. Or it must be revealed by One Who Knows. Example: Did Adolph Hitler have a mustache? Answer: He does in all his photographs. See? Example: Q: Is this stove really hot? Answer: OUCH! ----Example: Q: Is God Good? Answer: Define goodness. Q: Smart-aleck. What is goodness, then? Answer: God has written it on your heart.
Epistemology II : The Woman and the Half-Baked Philosopher She held me tightly, her breath coming softly. "I love you," she sighed And she kissed my cheek. I know that you love me, my dear. And I am aware that your excitement is caused partially by that fact, as well as the hormonal secretions
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being released by your body in response to your thoughts about my psycho/sexual person. She drew back, looking at me with a troubled expression. "I love you," she said. "I know that," I repeated, "and I appreciate the fact that you have invested me with your passionate attentions. You are a beautiful woman, and I can't help but be honored by your continual adoration." She continued looking at me in silence. Finally, "Do you love me," she said. "That is a question I can't really reply to," I honestly answered. "Love is a subjective term, filled with subjective meanings. I appreciate your desire to feel that you are loved by me. The fact that we have discussed possible engagement should indicate to you that love is my intention. Be assured that my attention is, when directed toward women and/or sexual things, completely yours. But love may be too strong. It denotes commitment, which I am unwilling to offer at this time. It denotes abandonment...." She leaned forward suddenly, kissing me violently, open-mouthed. Her white teeth closed. I jerked back in pain. "You bit me!" I said. Blood was in my mouth. I could feel the warm trickle on my bottom lip. "You know all about love," she said. "Do you love me?" "Yes, I love you. I'd die without you, Carol," I whispered.
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"There's nothing to be afraid of," she said. I tasted the blood in my mouth. She reached a Kleenex, dabbed at my lip, then cradled my head on her shoulder. "I knew you loved me," she murmured, as if talking to someone not there. "But love isn't easy for those who know how much it hurts." She kissed me--gently--and I kissed her back, my cheeks wet with tears.
Blow Away Tremors Electricity, you Send me Shock To my system to the neat order of my supposedly complete ordered mind. Blow me away, darling And the breath of love Sweeps me into a pile At your feet.
Teacher, Teacher I jump out of my skin When you touch me with your existence I cannot learn enough about you And the brilliant gold
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Of you, completely real, real. History happens, Regardless of philosophy or books Events progress inevitably forward And you exist, teacher of my heart and mind I fly off-center, unsure of things as they are Without your presence and your acceptance Do I speak of you or of God? His love is so blended with yours, I sometimes cannot tell I miss you simply, completely until your face fills my eyes and your breath touches my neck, softly Dearest Carol My teacher, teacher What will we learn together next?
TheWonder, All Alive I lean into the wind of you, buffeted by the playful pressure of your unseen love And when you're not breathing next to me, I tremble in the coldness of a breezeless, cheerless day I lean into the wonder of you, all alive Now that you are here, and In my eyes' sight. Like God, you endless astonish me Loving me for no apparent reason My strength, my woman of God and this weak "I" your strength, Strong in another's love Glory in my weakness Wind-swept in the arms of Strength
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This, and This Hair in my mouth, like hay, or earth the skin of her shoulders, shoulder blades in my hands. I move a finger, the hair slides from my mouth. I clear away the hay from the pale earth. A pig roots, a lover nuzzles. Sometimes hard to tell the difference except for your forgiveness and my willingness to learn. My lips against her neck and her hands upon my unshaven face. We lay side by side in a world made of this, and this.
Words and Kisses Restless, filled with longing Oh, for Carol's hair upon my face Our limbs intertwined In a wordless dance
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The gray morning greets me solo She's gone to work While my writer's midnight hours Leave me filled with sleep But now that she's gone I want her pure skin against me Her breath against my neck Roundness beneath my fingers I smile at myself, my body My desires out of sequence With the way things are; Carol's gone, and I must go I rise, laughing Already thinking of this night And soft light upon her shoulders Our shared words and kisses
A Toast Carol, you light the interior paths Of my mind and my spirit The places where thoughts wander And emotions lie, like wine In the cellar of my keeping I am not one to pour the wine, Afraid of its intoxicating ways And yet with you my innerness is Uncorked, poured And I am eager to drink with you. Where does this inner life go, And to what purpose, if love is only our creation? The lights of mind and Sparks of heart would mean nothing Without God. Drink, then, dear friend My sister, whom I kiss in heat of day A taste of grapes upon your breath And the fiery ferment Now burning through my veins!
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You are the key to my cellar of sorrows And the doorway to my flesh Your hair brushes against my lips And your words caress my deepest wounds Dear lover, sweet sister, Cling to me in this darkening place Where deeds and words cannot triumph Your existence trumpets the truth Of His.
Without A Compass I have no starting place. To me, I have always been, Though will not always be. Death and sorrow Cling like shrouds to my earthly hopes. I have no ending place. To me, a wanderer in a strange land, A vagabond filled with restless yearnings, Each leading nowhere Except the Final Destination. I'm a badly written story, A fragment from ancient papyri, Written in a language Which I cannot decipher Though my very life depends upon it. I am lost, I admit it, Without bearings in the desert of love. I would deny my soul, if I could, But feel the celestial And demonic tugs upon me. I await the morning light, Always hopeful that light will indeed come Instead of this fog of unknowing And the blanketed still form Of my innocence. Who can rescue me? Who has a compass? You, my darling The gift God gave me
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To help me find myself And not be afraid To drown in Oceanic Love.
Sweet Things and Needful We love as lovers do, hot and sweaty Or slow and thoughtfully, Searching one another's faces For clues as to Love's meaning We read to one another Or sit, silent, perhaps immersed in a book or magazine article but peering over it once and again To watch the beloved reading And pretending not to watch us. We are growing older, and love Is not easy at all times As the children become independent And the work load grows And our walk with Christ At times wearies us We pray with one another Or talk, thoughtful, of what this startling love-life in Christ is about, your Eyes of brown going soft As you look into my soul's secrets You are the holder of the sweetest things, And needful to me, They are more precious than my life.
Self-Identification I and I, you and I I have a difficult time Remembering Who is who
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How am I identified to "I"? Blaise and Soren say the knower is unknown to himself and so, unknowing of all else, lost in despair or grace. If "I" doesn't know I's "who," How can "I" know "You"? I find my I in I AM, yet even there, am not touched as the Beloved disciple was touched head pressed to the Great Heart, the warmth of Jesus against his cheek And when you touch me, the simple, non-sexual touch of a hard-working wife for her absent-minded husband I find myself Loved by you, and Another, And so am at peace, Self-identified at last.
On Experimentation with Static Electricity The day was dry, the rug thick, and my fingers upon the brass knob Emitted a spark that stung A grimace, a smile, As hurt led to laughter And to memory Which brings its own agenda
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To any meeting As a child, I'd experiment Scuffing rugs with bare feet, Or cheap pennyloafers, (Which offered a bigger bang?) Reaching out to spark My shocked brother Or frazzled Mom, Plastic toy (nope) or Steel-topped stove (WoW!) Later, alone, tucked in, Huddled under blankets Tented over my head, I rubbed the wool folds And saw the electricity Dance for me, crackling. Emerging later, I'd feel my hair Standing upright with stored voltage. Wonder is a spark And love the scuffling feet, as entangled we lie, scientists Beneath these quilts, Gathering evidence Dancing the static alive, An unending experiment, Creating current In the face of the dark.
["Trees and Roots and Growing Things" -- back to Contents ]
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Trees and Roots and Growing Things

A CORNERSTONE PRESS CHAPBOOK

Jon Trott CORNERSTONE PRESS CHICAGO