It seemReady for the Path?s to have fallen upon me
To be the one that assembles a tree
From its scattered limbs and leaves
Broken trunk, bark and branches


And like a god I start
To take piece and part
Aligned to my careful plan
I build span by span

But when I look at my space
Bark and branches are missing
Leaves lost from their proper place
Limbs  awry and twisting

I scrabble on the ground
To find the missing parts
But as I look down and around
I see the failure of my black arts
To finalise my creation perfectly

I seek new bark and the right leaves
Straighten limbs and branches
To complete my best tree

Which grows unknowingly in my absence.