"I Must be Dreaming"

Is this magical realism
hiding trees in my mind,
walking and talking to me
in a language I do not know;
lying here in my padded cell
too afraid to wonder why,
a tree would listen to me
and tell a story in a poem.

Bishop Pine, you are requested
to invite the Japanese Cedar
and the Chinese Weeping Willow,
to dine with the American Sycamore
at the home of California Laurel,
out west where Western Catalpa
is dancing with Silky Camelia,
the second sister of Hackberry.

A lawyer signing a new contract
scheming a deal with Black Oak
and his wife, Snowdrop Tree,
the petrified cousin of Black Locust
hiding from Toona and Chusan Palm,
near Sycamore and a Mountain Gum
in the way of the invitation parade
along Grey Birch and Hop Tree.

The red crossing where Silver Lime
will form a line of Coniferous Trees,
that will confuse the crowd to panic
and bump into White Ash. Her friend
poor shy Magnolia gentle crying away,
while comforting little trailing Rubina
now in the way of the crowded crowd,
trying to see who will lead the parade.

Am I blind to a light shining brightly
where I see eyes staring down at me,
a sapling rising from the bare ground
waiting to see the new grand parade;
when spring time trees arrive in time
for a baby shower and presents free.


38 - lines.