A sprite called Uriel
Was imprisoned in a tree
And freed by a wizard
Now there’s a tree growing inside of me
The mystery cannot be believed
No theory to buy into
No forest of books to clear
It is and isn’t
It was and wasn’t
Buzzing bees distant cousin,
The wiz, couldn’t muzzle the mystery
Of the great and silent tree
Live oak
Interior
Interior
New fingers growing from each stem
Showing no tell
Icing you out
Cold as hell
What a sap I was at the cloisters
By the George Washington Bridge
Unhinging a door
To an abandoned fridge
Flesh howled on the bone, roots dived
Deepening the mystery
Of the tree
Live oak
Interior
Interior
I found you by touch alone
At the masquerade
Your anklet made its way to my neck
And we slipped off
Our atoms surged
Blood became one
We were neither lovers nor enemies
Kindred nor kindling
Yet I knew
The mystery was not through
The vandal delights
In carving his handle into
The proud and ancient tree
A sprite called Uriel
Was imprisoned in a tree
And freed by a wizard
Now there’s a tree growing inside of me
Live oak
Interior
Interior
Interior
Interior
Interior
Interior
Interior
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