Ancient and new, reaching and rising, beckoning aspiration, veil lifting, fragile tension, nature and being, essence and manifestation, the silver and the gold, vulnerable and protected, leafing and reliving.

This seedling no doubt sprung to life after plummeting to earth from a passing bird in flight, but it happened to root the wrong site for a full grown oak. Pulled up as if it were any other weed, it still longed for a life beyond that moment. Spiral and art, set aside and saved for a proper thought, eventually became this piece called Poetry.

K. M. Ehrenfeldt, 2005