Winter Tree

 

Take upon yourself the look of spring!
Don colours- vivid!- like to define life!
All the world will love you, that you must know!
Standing as death, brittle enough to break!
Take upon yourself the look of spring!

It is the trodden beetle who knows death
megalithic stones, millenia erect, do not.
I stand midway and though already lightening-struck
this is my springtime. I will meditate
long after those nearer the cockroach than me.

Perhaps you make the words for your self.
Atoms and stars; babies; bullets; glory; 
for yourself. After labelling the clouds
you'll find yourself deep in infinite blue
O, brief lives, plagued by melancholy...

Take upon yourself the look of spring!
Don colours- vivid!- like to define life!
All the world will love you, that you must know!
Standing as death, brittle enough to break!
Take upon yourself the look of spring!

 

◄ Embarassment Of Riches

Gothic Nocturne ►

Comments

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Adam Whitworth

Fri 30th Sep 2022 13:41


Hello Flyntland, I'm so glad you enjoyed the poem and took the time to comment. Thank you.

The Sapien, in goodwill, pleads in earnest with the quercus.
The landmark is allowed a response and then it is found the plea is turned back towards the human.

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Flyntland

Fri 30th Sep 2022 10:05

This is one of the most beautiful poems that I have read.

I have a deep love of trees,
some years ago I planted two 12" oak seedlings on our land, They have grown well and are now higher than a house, sturdy and strong, well used by wildlife.
So thank you for this poem, it is one that I shall read often.

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Adam Whitworth

Fri 30th Sep 2022 00:27

I suppose the poem concerns, in one strand at least, anthrpomorphic and anthropocentric issues.
I think I see how you would use the word 'macabre' and that's fair enough although the poem isn't intended to be harsh or critical or dwelling on a dark side.
Thanks for your kindly and perceptive comments, Massoud.

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Massoud

Thu 29th Sep 2022 21:08

This seems to me to be a willingness to submit to something inevitable. It is a beautiful poem which I am sure will mean different things to those who read it.

There seems to be an element of the macabre, forgive me if that is in anyway undesirable in respect of your intention.

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