“Tree

There is no other way than to become more tree.

Make it up with the soil. The soil: eternally the same.

The stones the same.

The gravel the same.

Nailed for all time to this: immovability.

To move in the tree’s direction:

deeper down.

Can a tree that loves storms become a storm?

The tree can do no other than to rend its crown.

Be shaken through by cries

the tree the nailed-fast soughing

born to be tree

drives its longing inward

into the form of tree.

The dark-shadowed grows broader. Broad

the pillar descends and without vertigo sings greater

towards the cloud its heart of leaves

rest for all that travels

safety for birds and for the seeds

forever in motion

deep in its innermost wood.

There is no way than to become more tree.”

Solveig von Schoultz