THUJA

    Difficult to reach, afraid of a fall, determined not to fail,
I winked at kitchi-gimi, slowly approaching the hallowed grail.
  She returned ten thousand smiles.  Shimmering, simmering
for miles and miles with a song that only she can sing.

  The sack of  Bull Durham was retrieved from my pocket.
  An ample sample was secured and placed in my palm socket.
The wrinkles and fissures of her ancient skin revealed a rift,
deep and curved. The perfect location to deliver my gift.

With reverence and awe, a silent prayer from within
preceded the pouring and sprinkling of tobacco in.
A surge of love and respect filled my whole being.
Waves of joy and bliss are what I was experiencing.

Basking in coolness, listening to waves, lapping, and slapping.
Her sweet body odor was inhaled and savored; not napping in
hundreds of years.  Daydreams manifested all those who like me,
came before to this shore and paid homage to the Witch Tree.