Jungle Temple The seed planted
in
you must have been
caught
From
its
infancy between wedge-leaf stone.
How many
times thwarted finger roots
bought
Water from the rock? Licked bones?
sacrificial
Shackled, restless, pushing,
rose
it
atom by
atom, quiet through empires' ages. Soft roots
locked in frozen battle with pagan mineral.
And now no
priest to pull the
shoots.
Trunks widen: see
how
the crouch like old
warriors
on your carcass! Fallen, fallen—arches, ceihngs, secret rooms. Fear, Vishnu! full
grown
fig
The
with sickle-time will slice
your stone.
Abbie Hilton
