There is a tree on some island steadfast in a dusty village square .

Old men sit and wine they sip, shadows of forefathers hang in the leaves ,

Whispers of conversations drift through the air , tainted with tobacco 

Serious ,, joyous, lives lived out by the clock of the day.

 

Fathers brothers, uncles sons all bring wisdom to their lips

Contemplating life before , the now , the future.

Heat recedes with orange sun , lighting up the faces.

Creating the long shadows that follow them home.

 

The tree listens , absorbing all around it

Sucking in the voices , locking them away, beneath its bark

Filtering the babble to its core

Locking it away until judgement day.

 

500 years it’s stood, witness of life’s rhythm 

Storms weathered , wars come and gone,

Scarred with lovers marks ,but silently 

Stretching arms of comfort for all

 

Shelter from the burning sun,

Filter for the moon,

Collector of the rain 

Retainer of the earth 

It’s fruit dying to give rebirth.

 

It’s crown, worn proudly 

Looking to the horizon

Supporting life within and below

Swaying as a dancer in the wind

Wiser than men will ever know.

 

08/10/2022. 21:05-23:55