Something so heavy with meaning
all we can do is drag
our hands across the surface
itching to define to fix
as a compass point
navigating what
I thought I understood
because I lived within its skin
and yet
stroking the trunk
fingering a fold
I understand nothing
not even the shape
let alone the name
even the tracks it leaves in its wake
keep changing
and look
in each depression
the falling rain
becomes sea
