[rain frog thorn bug tent bat]

rain frog thorn bug tent bat

along a broken mosaic a spongy ever-dwindling path

soaring trees woody buttresses their massive twisted fins

lofty crowns shoulder to shoulder climbing lime-green

vines restless palms one strangling plant clinging to

choking another a discontinuous canopy of branches and leaves

impenetrable alive and teeming tangled underbrush

the deeply shaded soil lumpy roots writhing

across the forest floor low-growing ferns seedlings

struggling for light jewel-colored hummingbirds

insects sizzling and clicking and the dripping water

trickling into the tiniest crevices steamy

claustrophobic air a dazzling bellbird lost

in a shaft of sunlight a golden eyelash viper

sinuous as a vein on a broad-leafed frond flat worms

land leeches walnut-sized spiders goliath beetles

camouflaged butterflies on dead leaves parasites bees

leaf-cutting ants atop glorious white lilies everywhere

gripping climbing twisting floating through the trees

stilt-like aerial roots the mouth-amazed pitcher plant

buried larvae fruit-eating fish the perpetual battle to adapt

the ruthless drive to survive under a punishing sun

what grows bursts forth at astonishing speed then decomposes

to be reabsorbed so much unknown unfamiliar

unnamed but before long the trees seem the same

the rocks every bird track who would dare think of such a place

who would dare construct one of his own imagining

and be utterly abandoned in the middle of it all

if to be lost is to be fully present if confusion becomes

the only boundary and then the decision [to divide space

until a direction is created] only a madman would begin

thought is its own cage the mind already anticipating

the first step deciding every turn will be coupled

by disaster and perhaps some bestial creature

crouched at the center crying waiting

for our hero our everyman our Elijah wandering the earth in rags

Source: What Thread? (Red Dragonfly Press, 2015)