The Lilac Tree
Sunday, August 9, 2020
One day when I was six or seven
And doubted there might be a heaven
A place with angels and a bearded God
Who ruled the Earth with his lightning rod
Well, on that day, I had to pee
And Mrs Drummond let me be
So out I went into the yard
Where urinals waited, yellow tarred
By years of bursting childhood wee
From nose-held careless infancy
I did my bit to add more stain
With my little spray of acid rain
Then, just as I had started back,
I stopped mid-step on my usual tack,
A rush of colour caught my gaze
The playground tree was a purple haze
It enticed me up its bursting tower
Of dripping pendules of lilac flower
I found myself a place to perch
High inside its pagan church
And fell into a reverie,
A drug-enhanced cacophony
Of flies and beetles, stripy bees
Murmuring on the violet seas
And there I dozed until the bell
Which let my schoolmates out as well
Some climbed too so they could be
Co-celebrants in the sorcery
By telepathy we shared a prayer
To an Ancient One we sensed was there
That childhood spell still wraps my skin
And stops life trying to shut me in
From the lilac tree I still derive
My sense of truly being alive