GROUNDED OAK TREE
I sit lonesome and weary, a wreck -
A shroud wrapped around my gleaming neck.
My world spins in a paradise of swinging palms
And I wonder about drinking in beachy halls.
Often, a holy animal guide comes to see me;
And I explain my problem with the sea.
That open theatre where I can never get tickets,
There I sit surrounded by flying crickets.
Once, I stumbled on that "Starry, starry night" -
Its' sombre vice clamping me to its height.
To hundreds of these great soldiers, I drink;
Those that never grieve in pink.
And while those bright corals sway down under on their reef;
And as long as those sharks, they live by the reef;
I hope to dive in my cage.
Never turning to the contents page.
About This Poem
Written in June 2001, this introspective poem uses the metaphor of a rooted oak tree to explore themes of limitation, longing, and the tension between dreams and reality. The speaker is quite literally grounded—unable to move toward the sea that calls to them. The "open theatre where I can never get tickets" beautifully captures the frustration of being able to see possibilities but unable to access them. References to Van Gogh's "Starry, starry night" and imagery of coral reefs and sharks create a contrast between the tree's fixed terrestrial existence and the fluid, dynamic world of the ocean it desires. The poem expresses a kind of philosophical melancholy—the speaker drinks "to hundreds of these great soldiers, / Those that never grieve in pink," suggesting a kinship with other beings who endure their fixed circumstances with dignity. The final lines about diving "in my cage" and "Never turning to the contents page" suggest both acceptance of limitation and a determination to experience what's possible within those constraints, rather than constantly looking ahead to what cannot be.