The Spirit of The 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.


The wind blows and gusts.

The rain washes and the seed is carried

to soft fingers of the earth, unhurried.


Nestling snugly in the earth

the seed slips deeper down,

Deeper into the earth.


Later a Green shoot appears

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 the man appears

And with a wail of the chain saw

The trees loftly height comes crashing down and disappears.


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


◄ Poem for a Barmaid

Goodbye Girl ►


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Wed 9th Oct 2013 10:00

Yes, at least it lives on in its seeds. As do we. Lovely, thoughtful poem.

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