Bonsai

Yellow Bloodwood

4. bonsai

Frequently I pause at a regenerating patch of bushland seeded

with surface soil from a not far distant forest and guess at the identity

of sapling blue gums turpentines stringybarks coachwood

angophoras acacias all less than a metre tall imagining the full grown trees

that I will never see while nearby in his backyard Dave scissors

leaves trains limbs to bonsai replicas of full grown trees imagined

but will never be just as greatness may be thrust on men

by circumstance the bonsai trees have smallness thrust upon them

it’s why they fascinate like dwarfs in royal courts but what disturbs

about the would-be-giant Ficus religiosa rooted in its inch of moss and gravel

and no larger than a weed is had it reached potential

it may have had a Buddha resting in its shade from the shock

of his enlightenment just as remarkable the stunted wind-swept

tortured forms of bonsai pines their ascetic lives spent on the calm

and sunny two square metre garden bench in Dave’s backyard

a creative space so strange I wonder did God feel much the same

creating at his bench all living things but I dare not linger

in this arboreal surgery for fear that bonsai love or madness might invade

my mind so I retreat to the patch of regenerating bush

relax breathe fresh air among the saplings freely stretching to the sun

(Australian Poetry Anthology)