Nothing is Separate

There is a Santa Rosa plum tree,
which I planted,
on the 118th day of 1975,
over the septic field
in the more-or-less-an-acre
at 6045 Hyland Way,
Penngrove, California.

There is the world
as it is and
there is the world
which we see.
I am certain, however,
that I am in that tree
and that tree is in me.