A Bonsai Fits Perfectly

Imagination plays a spell on the living room landscape.
The end-table becomes a shining cliff or shrouded tree house

And the lamp, a monstrous tree towering over the edge
And leaves held high that shine with power. Plastic explorers

Dangle, caught in the whims of a six-year-old puppet mistress
Who sees the faded green carpet as a jungle filled with lions,

Tigers, and dinosaurs and, of course, a bantha and rancor, too.
How perfectly this tiny tree fits with the scenery,

Setting the stage for the most daring scene yet.
The one where the heroine swordfights the prince, her true love, who

Has been cursed by the evil sorceress and after knocking him unconscious,
Defeats the sorceress by shattering her iron crown.

In this world of tiny adventure, the bonsai tree does not throw-off
A room. It perches at the cliff’s edge, tiny curved branches

Weaving through the atmosphere which hovers low, below the lamp.
Stacks of books and magazines march along the base of the cliff

Thrusting up the mindless actors. Shoelace ropes cinched around their plastic waists
Keep explorers tethered to her thoughts.

Ascension is long and redone three times, before they find
A garden at the zenith. A bonsai tree plays the part perfectly.

The tended tree looks ancient, a relic from some Zen garden left to fend for itself
While the imagination carves it a new home and

Tiny fingers imagine a lost world in the living room
Balanced around a little tree

And
Me.