The tree

Eternal life was in a Tree

I am the termites and hives and sting;
I am the bite of those beasts to splinters;

I am too, the dogged winter
Rasping, biting, monster, splendor;

I am the salesman, theiving vendor
Selling it to warm as tinder,
Firing, blazing, burning rendered;

I am the morning steadily sourced
Cutting slow my fickle course
Across the roots; I am the river changing,
Stealing footings, rearranging;

And when the leaning's easy with gravity
I am the space, a hole, a cavity;
I am on and on-days, high and low
Tidal erodings, daily slow;

I am the wind, howling angry,
And I ain't changed, but change everything.