"Jungle Power"

In the jungle I drew from
an extract of its grandest leaf
I climb, numb to the scabs
of a pained old canopy
To mimic the beasts I yearn to be
thoughts quelled and affirmed
by my command
I stop to taste the aroma of this preparation
as all my plans
become self-apparent and
the scabs unearth their cause
Still unable to feel my hands
I climb higher to the first
stretch which I never reached
The sky turns earthen and the
raindrops in the crust fall upwards
So I can't see the cracks
that I assume they unveil
The limbs thrust downward with
a brief wind keeping the
leaves in place
As I try to pick a final leaf
all turns gray
and my hands blend in with the scabs
so I cannot differentiate what
is mine and what to grasp
Where to shift my uneven weight
Which eye to keep open
The bliss of the thousandth tree
I climbed revealed what I can
see, all I have seen these
thousand times - a foundation that
secedes upon itself
Visible to my body but not my soul