(my beatnick poem)

I was walking through a big, dark forest,
And I came to a clearing in a wood,
And in the middle of the clearing I saw a tree,
 A big tree,
  An old tree,
   The tree of life,
And as I looked up the tree I saw some branches,
And on the branches grew small branches,
And on the small branches grew smaller branches,
And so on.
I climbed up the tree,
I climbed to the smallest branch on the smallest branch on the smallest branch,
And on that branch there was a leaf,
And on the leaf there was a dew-drop,
And I looked into the dew-drop,
And in the dew drip I could see a clearing in a wood in a big dark forest,
And in the middle of the clearing I could see a tree,
 A big tree,
  An old tree,
   The tree of life,
And I looked up to the top of the tree,
On the smallest branch on the smallest branch on the smallest branch,
And I saw myself,
Peering into a dew-drop on a leaf.