resilience

i climbed a tree when i was young
but i'm so much older now,
yet
still yearning to reach new heights
perhaps like the typical willow tree
i'm bending easily
with age or as in youth,
as in the eye of a vicious wind storm
or on a quiet summer evening,
with time on my side
or when there's nothing nearby
and the bark makes no sound!
or is that my breath i hear so quiet in the still of a
slow evening?  I'm breathing,
and so is the Earth, and the sun shoots solar flares
which i can not see but i feel.
the wildly vibrant sea waves come crashing in an orgy of foamy whiteness
while i sit near the
back bay waters:
they whisper softly, almost cooing
like a fully satisfied peace pigeon,
and i'm deeply aware
of the forest humming!
there is an essential nature
within man
and without man;
there is a swaying
and i'm filled with musical notations on many hip-hop Friday nights,
and on orchestral afternoons,
like a steady Diana Shore of seeing and smelling and singing,
i'm noticing new ideas and remembering  ancient ones.
the green sprouts and tiny shoots and nearby shadows tingle;
there's the lightness constantly dancing to a rock steady universal rhythm,
in or out of step,
and i'm still climbing the trees.
i believe a person's sense of self and their public identity
stay healthy while bonding,
with roots deep and
flexible, and
passing tests which no teacher can hope to grade.
i hang from the tree on a limb which carries my weight,
regardless of age, resilient.