William Burford
CEDAR OF CEDARS
Love is not taught by taut, slender vases, precious antique
Pieces of porcelain for the thin, the so easily bendable
Long stems of a florist's show-window roses. Rather does Love
Learn from the giant urn raising in cement by iron portals
Such hardy tree as cedar. Made of the same strong substance
A lion guards this individual garden; a king so constructed
He can be heard to growl how prepared paws are to sprawl
Whichever guest to the palace would twist a tough sprig
From the tree. Greenness may be given to brush an entering
Ruffled cheek, or weave summer shade on the warm knocker.
This greenness will not wither, as leaves fixed in vase water
Will, when their form is shattered by a crass, capricious hand.
This green was born contained
in
that that cracks knuckles.
The Japanese tend thousand-year-old trees in brass bowls;
But theirs are dwarfs any child can rip out. Ours stays.
Oh cedar upright from your urn, if your lion should sleep some
Night, and the skillful visitor creep to a quick snipping
Of your plumage; overnight, as can such sapped perennials,
Each branch could bandage itself, grow out to cope with a new
Sun's heat feed on light that would, could, find no less of Love.
Oh cedar strong
in
your strong urn! Cedar of the cedars
Of Lebannon! You are true to lift yourself upon a pedestal,
Neck of this deep 'basin-head that holds your earth intact.
Thus you tell all the strong who root your species out
For robbing light from grass that goats might graze on,
Grow more mohair for the mills; you, cedar, and your lion
1307
