The man ambled out of the cafe to look at the tree up close,
Someone was pouring water from a mop bucket at the tree roots.
The man pouring the water stated how the decade old tree
Had not been tended to carefully enough and manual watering
Is required, though he wonders what the future of this tree
Holds given an already wasted decade. The other trees in the same
Right-of-way will need the same sort of adjusted care.
The ambling man took all this information in and added to the conversation
With a knowledge only capable by spending time on this block.
An entire conversation unfolded about the history of the trees in the
Right-of-way on a city block which has witnessed its share of
Change in a decade, let alone decades.
Knowing that there are people that know this much about the
Trees in front of you, it’s hard not to sense the thing which
Has kept you restless for months, years, maybe longer.
By being everywhere you have finally found yourself nowhere at all.
Even when you are somewhere, you are nowhere. You live a buffet
Lifestyle without the buffet wastline anymore, but instead a detachment
Grows because you don’t rest long enough anywhere to claim
A sense of belonging. You realize specificity is escaping
Your inner self, and a less than satisfying wandering generalism is left over.
An envy struck deeply in your spirit as you wanted to know the
Growth history of the tree, because intimacy is required for this conversation.
There are things abandoned or half done which are still
Calling you and demand such intimacy. They require all of your presence.
They call with affirmations strewn across the landscapes you’ve
Loitered in; a loitering making you feel unwanted even as the compliments come.
No place means no roots, but all places means ripped up and torn roots.
Maybe you’ll finish that song you always meant to finish. That is your place
Afterall, music. But maybe that book could get written as well. Or the well
Researched long read blog. Or how about the five or so degrees you desire to obtain?
This is cyclical too and perhaps where the realization turns to pain.
You’ve found yourself always in, ironically, the same place; a place where you are
Forever looking to what is next, what is possible ahead, caught in a
Daydream and a Nightmare of never settling into intimate knowledge.
Being present doesn’t help when those who you are present with know a
Part of you, that part you show up to them with, while another part
Shows up for that other group over at that other coffee shop.
Or was it the part of you at the job you wear a mask at?
This tree could be any tree but you don’t pick a tree to focus on.
You straddle all borders, so you don’t know the trees on the block you retire each night at.
There are blocks you know a lot about, the history of the block, some of the people on them.
But the more you shift from this place, this shop, this block, this past,
This dream, this inspiration, this dead dream, this present dream,
This book, this blog, this social media profile, this other blog, this other book,
This unfinished riff, this unfinished song, this unfinished symphony,
The more you live nowhere at all.
You are nowhere though it is all out there.
And when you get to decide who you will become next, you’ll wish you
Knew more about this single tree in this one right-of-way. It will go a long
Way towards being where you should be, right where you are sitting still.
Someone was pouring water from a mop bucket at the tree roots.
The man pouring the water stated how the decade old tree
Had not been tended to carefully enough and manual watering
Is required, though he wonders what the future of this tree
Holds given an already wasted decade. The other trees in the same
Right-of-way will need the same sort of adjusted care.
The ambling man took all this information in and added to the conversation
With a knowledge only capable by spending time on this block.
An entire conversation unfolded about the history of the trees in the
Right-of-way on a city block which has witnessed its share of
Change in a decade, let alone decades.
Knowing that there are people that know this much about the
Trees in front of you, it’s hard not to sense the thing which
Has kept you restless for months, years, maybe longer.
By being everywhere you have finally found yourself nowhere at all.
Even when you are somewhere, you are nowhere. You live a buffet
Lifestyle without the buffet wastline anymore, but instead a detachment
Grows because you don’t rest long enough anywhere to claim
A sense of belonging. You realize specificity is escaping
Your inner self, and a less than satisfying wandering generalism is left over.
An envy struck deeply in your spirit as you wanted to know the
Growth history of the tree, because intimacy is required for this conversation.
There are things abandoned or half done which are still
Calling you and demand such intimacy. They require all of your presence.
They call with affirmations strewn across the landscapes you’ve
Loitered in; a loitering making you feel unwanted even as the compliments come.
No place means no roots, but all places means ripped up and torn roots.
Maybe you’ll finish that song you always meant to finish. That is your place
Afterall, music. But maybe that book could get written as well. Or the well
Researched long read blog. Or how about the five or so degrees you desire to obtain?
This is cyclical too and perhaps where the realization turns to pain.
You’ve found yourself always in, ironically, the same place; a place where you are
Forever looking to what is next, what is possible ahead, caught in a
Daydream and a Nightmare of never settling into intimate knowledge.
Being present doesn’t help when those who you are present with know a
Part of you, that part you show up to them with, while another part
Shows up for that other group over at that other coffee shop.
Or was it the part of you at the job you wear a mask at?
This tree could be any tree but you don’t pick a tree to focus on.
You straddle all borders, so you don’t know the trees on the block you retire each night at.
There are blocks you know a lot about, the history of the block, some of the people on them.
But the more you shift from this place, this shop, this block, this past,
This dream, this inspiration, this dead dream, this present dream,
This book, this blog, this social media profile, this other blog, this other book,
This unfinished riff, this unfinished song, this unfinished symphony,
The more you live nowhere at all.
You are nowhere though it is all out there.
And when you get to decide who you will become next, you’ll wish you
Knew more about this single tree in this one right-of-way. It will go a long
Way towards being where you should be, right where you are sitting still.
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