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why don't we all automatically know how to turn lead into gold? or why is alchemy so impossible. is it just an analogy for spirtual mastery?


the exuberant palm

dares the wind to blow

her feathered fronds are bending

as if bliss could be a vision

or, in the calm expectant

loosely letting limbs languish

like actors' arms, gathers

power from the light

then when the howling winds

shake lashing leaves

the limit of endurance

and frowning branches snap

and fly and fall to a remnant

of their original selves

the palm stands humbly counting

fewer arms

and sucking deeply

from the soil

transforms a liquid intoxicant

the mother tree spews forth

fresh shoots to fan the laughing stars …