The Sap is rising from the ground
Sticky sweet with life it sounds
Out the hollows of dry wood
Press-ganging life into its hood
And strangely swaying in old limbs
The things birds know on the wing
And trapping flies in its ointment
It elucidates life in an amber spyglass
Fifty million years ago
This same sap was on the flow
Pushing up from mother earth
Giving life, giving birth
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