Pears thunk and plop on
barren, yellow grass
alone, uncarried.
The tree bore fruit
but there is no one
to eat thereof.
(is it still a tree?)
Upraised branches,
so much verdant waterspray
towards the sky,
still and soft against
the blue–
but no one to see.
(is it still a tree?)
Oaken limbs, worn with carrying children
to and fro, pumping, playing
jumping, but no one now
hears the joy in the swing.
(is it still a tree?)
Carpenter fashions these
woodly beams, rough-hewn
splinter-worthy
carried for miles
to the top of a hill-
everyone sees:
It was a tree.
Entirely sweet, beautiful life of an oak tree….. It's purpose, it's loneliness, it's joy of sharing, it's memory, and finally – gratirude for her…. Lovely…
A solemnity here – the parallels of tree to human life. The necessity we all have to define life and living things underpins the poem. Nicely penned.
ah really love the spiritual message in this…at first i was thinking of a tree falling in the woods and would anyone hear it….nice play off that…does it make it any more or any less real that someone sees it?
What a beautiful reflection on a tree. And I wonder: Was its role more important when it was alive or after it was cut down?
http://inthecornerofmyeye.blogspot.com/2012/09/its-hot.html
That was beautiful and very creative… loved it.
Joanne–you are a book of international stories walking around in a body….wow!
p.s. will read/digest the Phurba emails soon. thanks
Neat, Jody. A blessing, as usual. Made me think of something I saw in Soroti, Uganda. Tree issues were something very serious during my stay there, b/c the refugees needed to have wood for cooking, etc. Most of the trees that the Brits had taken care of for many years before they had left about 30 years before this hit, were still doing pretty well. And then this invasion had hit. WELL, most trees had lost their bark, some unusual kinds with large roots growing up and up and surrounding the tree were used as a men's toilet [YUK!], but the fun one: a young boy laying on top of a small tree branch, hands and legs clasped around it, while other kids bounced it up and down, giving him a ride.
So, trees are among my favorite parts of life!! And your poem, photo, heart were loverly today.
[ALSO, re: the story I sent. Just b/c it has many more chapters than originally intended for you, take whatever time you need. You're one busy cookie… I can't risk driving you nuts.]
Berry–thank you for stopping by. I've seen interviews about Nick–wow, talk about God using a tragedy for his glory.
“If you can't get a miracle, become one.”
With God's power and strength we all can.
Bless you.
I love Sundays! Thank you for your wonderful words.
I attended the online Saddleback Church service today to hear Nick Vujicic. His words truly touched my heart. I can not believe how emotional I still am.
“If I fail, I try again,again,and again.. If you fail, are you going to try again? If you can't get miracle, become one”. Nick Vujicic
And when the tree falls in the forest and nobody's around to hear, is there still a sound? I couldn't help but think of that.
But it's. Still. A tree.
gorgeous! May we all have eyes to see.
Beautiful words. How much the ordinary can become insignificant outside of the Cross!
Oo, depth here, deeply moving.
Wow. What a beautiful bundle of words God dropped into your heart!
Oh, gorgeous writing, enjoyed this alot!And the pictures!http://kolembo.wordpress.com/2012/02/01/three-trees/
Thank you Charles. I so appreciate what people see sometimes, beyond all the words I write (in between?).Ahhhhhh, to be able to paint. I'll have to settle for art with words.
I love the way of this in painterly terms. You have the sense of form and body the space with emptiness and fullness. I understand what you say here, but I like paintings where the fullness and emptiness balance each other out, as in those lovely Zen paintings of mountain passes with fog and trees, and there seems to be an infinity of possibility. Asit is, your poem is wonderful for how thoughtful it is.
thank you, Karin. Sometimes when I set out to write I'm surprised at where the lines take me.you're a dear to send your counting book. I'll be delighted WHENEVER it comes. thank you!
ah, tree swings. Hadn't thought about those in a long time. My brothers would agree with you.smile.
Thank you. Our minds are a wondrous creation.
Thank you. I've noticed over the year a lot of alliteration shows up in my poems, just by letting the words flow.
it is such a joy to have the words that God gives me turn and be so well received. I'm always a little amazed, frankly. thanks for sharing your thoughts.
There's definitely a drama in bare limbs. And I think it's the thought of loss that makes it all so powerful–which you've captured. So sorry re book! Will do! Absolutely! I have a problem with snail mail so may just send from Amazon. k.
Lovely! I would rather remember trees, too.
nice…i rather like the autumn trees as well….the anticipation in them and the creek old limbs…do like a tree swing though…we have one out back…nice progression in this…
Love the changes in this poem – just like my mind works sometimes. Very enjoyable read.
These are great lines:”cloaked in a wardrobe of wonder””barren bones holding up the air”
As one who loves trees, I was drawn into your words. I love autumn trees, too, and I also find that the bare limbs teach us much. I love this “Their form and structurerevealed only by what isn't there…”That gives me much to think about. Thank you.