Monterey Cypress by John Malta, 1930
By: John Malta
I, a cypress, in my seed
Knew the ocean was my need.
In the close and secret life
Of my core I learned that strife
Of wind and surge on thudding sand
Was for me: I must withstand
Anger from the sea that came
Farther than the western flame;
I could speak the west wind’s own
Language as it blew me down.
Windless days I grew to sea,
But wind made me grow back on me;
Where my growing changed I spread
Newer elbows round my head;
I am old and where I branch
The thews are thickened to be staunch.
Now behold I am a page,
Writ between repose and rage.
Carven to the smallest trace
The sea is in my tortured grace.
Naked bear I lettered limbs
Annotated by her hymns.
Published October 30th 1930, The Carmelite Vol. III Number 38