Looking Deeply
By Niall Twohig
Looking deeply at this leaf,
I see that microcosm
reflects macrocosm—
The leaf bears, in it, the shape of the tree:
Its trunk,
Its branches,
in miniature.
Perhaps both tree and leaf
reflect a larger shape we cannot see—
The Universe Tree
From which tree, leaf, and we are born.
* * *
I see a little green in the leaf—
a reminder of Da in his last days.
So tired and spent,
his energy sapped.
Yet still he had
that little green.
To give to me.
And it’s with me still.
* * *
Looking deeply at my hands,
I see Da’s hands,
his index finger so calloused
from the needle pricks
3-5 times a day
365 times a year
65 years
How many pin pricks?
How many times was his sugar too high, too low?
I don’t want to do the math.
I only want to see his hand
holding my hand,
as we cross the street,
as we shoot hoops,
as he hands me
$20 bucks to “get some grub”
or his last few dollars
to his poor brother on the street.
His were kind generous hands,
calloused from care.