By Changming Yuan   ThicketStanding straight against the frozen sky
Your skeletons are the exquisite calligraphy
Of the seasonYour name is writNot in water
But with wind  VentifactingA fact of fiction
A fiction of fact
Carved with the invisible
Chisels of the tropical wind
You will never undertake a finishing touchNor do you really need one
To bloom your inner being
Into a solid shape of beauty
Weathering against all civilization  Green MeditationWhat do trees
Think of?All their lives they have been
Contemplating, so attentivelyRealized: mindful for certain
Yet without a feelingDown from the earthly depth
Up against the ethereal boundaryA loose thought travelling swiftly
From bough to bough. MeditatingOn what to think of  Rite of Passage  With a storm
With a gull
With your breathGoes the thought
With a vague vision
Beyond the boglandWith your heart
Hawking aloud in the wild
With dripping bloodAn unformed concept
A shoal of consciousness
Bubbling with feelingWith a photon
With a quantum
With your mind concentrated
On a twisted other   Natural Ironies (4) 1/ / SnaggingYou have long since died
But you will never fallStanding deadly among leafy growths
Your body embodies a rebirth
Greening close to your rotten cycles2/ MoonbowFew humans look up
At you, but you reflect
And refract just as many colors
As much beauty as a sunbowWith little warmth of the day
But countless secrets about darkness3/ WhaleYou hope to make a loud last call that
ReachesFar beyond yourself, on yourself, yourself reachable; an
AgitatedVociferous spirit in the Pacific, cruising
Under night currents, yellAs if for an echo, though too loud to be heard
For the un-whale like
Listening to the Mountain MurmuringTwenty minimeters of pink petals.Twenty minimetres of stretch and reach
Floral foil, twenty minimeters
Of soil, grass, dew, bushSitting in green meditation about                        The balance between yin and yang Myriad of leaves,
Falling down with mists            Of last night approaching – twenty minimetersOf ethereal presence, kissing
The thick ridges – is the soul            The melody of equanimity?
Insects sloughing offIn chameleon-rhythms.
You stopped as you heard themTwenty minimeters of dandelions rolling against
The vastness of sky and mountain
authorYuan Changming, nine-time Pushcart and one-time Best of the Net nominee, grew up in a remote village, started to learn English in Shanghai at age 19, and published monographs on translation before moving out of China. With a Canadian PhD in English, Yuan currently edits Poetry Pacific with Allen Qing Yuan in Vancouver, and has poetry appearing in Best Canadian Poetry, BestNewPoemsOnline, Cincinnati Review, Threepenny Review and 1259 others across 38 countries.