A symmetry of forces, yes,
but not of shape. The roots: a mess
of curves. Like slow snakes
they incorporate
rocks. The tree's full weight press-

ing down, the trunk arrows skyward.
For humans, centering's awkward.
You lack longevity,
can't fight gravity,
grow heavy. What wayward

cantilevering keeps you calm?
When sorrow settles, blights your limbs,
what dark contortions
fix you to the source?
Contrition. The light-aimed psalm.