The foliage

A vertical motion
evenly from the earth
up, upwards
skywards
         against the sky
an explosion, a bursting counter thrust
across the skyline
         a crossbough
spreading out
like wings
of wounding, a flight
into freedom
         like
hands, arms:
opening
the breast receives
a sword
a ray
a grain
         from the cross bough,
from its centre
the movement spreads everywhere:
the cotyledon,
the leafage and the ramage, the tip of the tree
the roots:
there's an image in the air.
         The current of time
is running across the cross bough,
flowing through the foliage.

From Hiidentyven ('Weird calm') by Lassi Nummi