What the Blade Knew

            【I】

I stand thin, leaning

on a tree that trembles.

Lift me in your arms—

my spine straightens,

my shadow straightens.

If my father lends his strength

to this trembling tree,

the tree will rise.

I called. He came down

and guided the trunk I leaned on

through bramble and scree,

to the banyan's root, to take hold.

               【II】

I wrapped the trunk in cloth,

bark grit beneath my nails.

I tested the knot; the wood

yielded under my palm.

My father spoke: Foolish child—

why bind a tree with cloth?

Father, against the thorns, the stones—

My father wiped his blade.

He knew what I had bound against:

not the thorns, not the stones—

the trembling.

He cut the cloth away.

It fell towards the banyan's root.

The thorns exposed.

The bandage off.

The trembling tree—

still trembling,

still standing.