Orchard’s Metaphysics

orchard at dawn
I’m a tree
in my orchard of moods
suspended in time
I’m moved by the gust of wind
by soundless sound
rooted I taste life
with the language of metaphysics
bark-free naked
with crushed interior
shrouded in the mystery of duration
temples of leaves
firmaments of roots
moved by touch
of untouchables
among people
in the middle of existence
I’m a tree
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