Trees do not wear cloaks
to hide their rough bark
or twisting forms.
They feel no shame displaying
gnarled branches,
growing leaves,
sharing with the world
their blooming flowers
and sweet fruit;
no one’s eyes need be protected
from the sight of bare trunks and twigs;
the oldest, most contorted trees—
these are the most beautiful,
for their forms reveal grace under pressure.
Outer bark tells stories
of wind, rain, and time,
describing the experience of each year-ring within.
No innocence to be kept by hiding
Nature’s creations,
only a restriction of joy.
The shapes and textures are
varied and beautiful,
not obscene, not vulgar,
but cursive, perfect in their flaws,
fitting perfectly into the world