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The Humble Tree



The gust of wind is ever so slight 

But it lifts the seed on wings of air 

And it is borne upon the breeze in flight. 


Amid the gusts and flurries

The rain pours down and the seed is carried 

to soft fingers of the earth, unhurried. 


Nestling snugly in the earth 

the seed slips deeper down, 

washed by the rain into the earth. 


Later a green shoot emerges 

stretching further, upward and outward 

Growing taller by the day. 


Till one day, one distant day 

a tree appears; birds alight on its branches, 

Insects crawl, nests are made. 


Days pass, weeks and months. 

Rain falls, snow and sleet, the sun warms. 

Seasons transform 


Years pass, decades come and go. 

A thousand birds have lived in these branches; 

Blackbird, thrush and crow 


Then a man comes by 

And with a wail of the chain saw 

The tree comes crashing down from on high 


Dust and debris float upon the air 

Consternation everywhere 

Except for the man and his saw, who watch without a care 


Still, all is not lost 

For the spirit of the tree lingers still 

In every seed that flies aloft 


So nurture every tree you see

Hug one if you feel so inclined

But don’t ignore the humble tree.






◄ The Day Bobby Kennedy Died

Sirens in the Distance ►


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Steve Higgins

Tue 8th Feb 2022 00:56

Thanks for your comments John and Stephen. Much appreciated.

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Stephen Gospage

Mon 7th Feb 2022 17:14

A great poem with a great message, Steve

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John Botterill

Mon 7th Feb 2022 15:25

Beautiful poem, Steve. Poetry for our age. Bravo! 😊

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