[Image: https://i.imgur.com/5R11Ac1.jpg]
Seen through the Trees
Edit 1
Do you, love, see those buildings through the trees,
white walls, brown-sepia verandas, tall
black windows, some with arches, by degrees
bone-white or lightly shadowed overall?
How strange to see them looming bright on dark
just past the crest of wooded winter hills,
between tall pines, brown dead-leafed boughs, black bark,
beneath a sky pale January fills.
It’s all illusion: regularly spaced
tree trunks form windows, curving limbs each arch,
floor-levels limned by branches, all enlaced
on canvas clouds make dream-skyscrapers march.
We see not what we see; instead we build,
beloved, visions not seen, only willed.
Original version;
Do you, love, see those buildings through the trees,
White walls, brown-sepia verandas, tall
Black windows, some with arches, by degrees
Bone-white or lightly shadowed overall?
How odd, to see a shining office park
Just past the crest of wooded, winter hills,
Between tall pines, brown dead-leafed boughs, black bark,
Beneath a sky pale January fills.
It’s all illusion: regularly spaced
Tree trunks form windows, curving limbs each arch,
Floor-levels limned by branches, all enlaced
On canvas clouds make dream-skyscrapers march.
We see not what we see; instead we build,
Beloved, visions not seen, only willed.
Cropped but unretouched photo.
Seen through the Trees
Edit 1
Do you, love, see those buildings through the trees,
white walls, brown-sepia verandas, tall
black windows, some with arches, by degrees
bone-white or lightly shadowed overall?
How strange to see them looming bright on dark
just past the crest of wooded winter hills,
between tall pines, brown dead-leafed boughs, black bark,
beneath a sky pale January fills.
It’s all illusion: regularly spaced
tree trunks form windows, curving limbs each arch,
floor-levels limned by branches, all enlaced
on canvas clouds make dream-skyscrapers march.
We see not what we see; instead we build,
beloved, visions not seen, only willed.
Original version;
Do you, love, see those buildings through the trees,
White walls, brown-sepia verandas, tall
Black windows, some with arches, by degrees
Bone-white or lightly shadowed overall?
How odd, to see a shining office park
Just past the crest of wooded, winter hills,
Between tall pines, brown dead-leafed boughs, black bark,
Beneath a sky pale January fills.
It’s all illusion: regularly spaced
Tree trunks form windows, curving limbs each arch,
Floor-levels limned by branches, all enlaced
On canvas clouds make dream-skyscrapers march.
We see not what we see; instead we build,
Beloved, visions not seen, only willed.
Cropped but unretouched photo.
Non-practicing atheist

