Pondering a Question

Why do trees conceal
     the splendor of their roots?

              Pablo Neruda, Book of questions.

Why do trees conceal their beauty
the splendor of their roots
stretching towards the blue sea

pondering drinking morning tea
listening to the songs of a lute
why do trees conceal their beauty

from your first seed you drew me
tasting the magic of your fruit
stretching towards the blue sea

in darkness shadows appear gloomy
wilderness dreams become acute
why do trees conceal their beauty

underneath the canopy, do you see
will the forest greenery be reduced
stretching towards the blue sea

a being of complexity and rooty
one of a kind, can't be reproduced
why do tress conceal their beauty
stretching towards the blue sea

 

 

linking with dVerse openlinknight - hosted by Bjorn 

Autumn's Serenade

Courtesy of Pixabay

 There is beauty in the way
sunlight illuminates the red
and orange-yellow leaves
of the oak and maple trees

rolling mountainside comes to
life in a brilliant array of colors

and I have fallen for autumn's
passionate serenade

a blue-rooted tune stirs
my soul 

written for dVerse
writing a 44 quadrille
incorporating the word "light"
hosted by De

Thank you for visiting and reading

For my Canadian friends - Happy Thanksgiving

Branching Out

Courtesy the Sunday Muse

I prepare to enter the realm of dreams
where I am free to wander a world of
amazing possibilities….

In the foggy mist I stumble over the
stump of a tree that once stood full
of vibrant life

I hear the ancient drums POUNDING
in my head

  Thump, ThuMP, THUMP

Reaching for the sky, within you is
a wonderful sphere of opportunities
capable of branching out in creative
energy…

Somewhere, beyond the field of
vision, if one is still, the whispering
of the tree can still be heard

I hear the ancient drums POUNDING
in my head

  Thump, ThuMP, THUMP

Opening the channels of the mind
and heart circulating healing energies
inward and outward connecting for
the greater purpose of being

Let your inner tree bud with the songs
of spring, reach for the radiant light
drink in the rain, sing in the sanctuary
of nature…

I hear the ancient drums POUNDING
in my head

  Thump, ThuMP, THUMP of

 

Linking with The Sunday Muse
hosted by Carrie

sharing with earthweal
hosted by Brendan

Author's note:  Last night I attended a drumming circle. To connect my drum with 50 other drums is an amazing experience.

May you experience the joys of renewed growth ....

 

If I Must Go

Courtesy of Pixabay

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My days are numbered
I am an X of a tree
in my final hours, I
contemplate my destiny

If, I must go
may, I become a cradle or crib
a place for a new born to sleep
and dream within my limbs

If, I must go
may, I become a flute or wind-chime
allowing my voice to still be heard
blowing in the breeze

If, I must go
may, I become a flowery birdhouse
a  place for nesting in the spring
allowing me to hear sparrow songs

If, I must go
may, I become a canoe or paddle
traveling lakes and rivers enjoying
the beauty of nature

If, I  must go
may, I become a paperback novel
or a book of poetry filled with words
from the heart, dedicated to the tongues
of falling trees

If, I  must go
may, you be reminded, that without
trees,  life cannot survive, my dying wish
is for you to plant a seed in remembrance
of me.

linking with earthweal
hosted by Sherry - The Tongues of Falling Trees

author's note: The sign of the X on a tree signifies
the tree will be cut down around here.  So many
have their days numbered or no longer stand tall.

When will we learn to take only what is truly needed
and leave the rest to grow creating balance?

What Do You See

river preserve

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I ask you, what do you see
do you see a fallen tree
that once stood tall along
the river edge or do you
see something more

I ask you, what do  you see
do you see transformation
from a living species to a
drying species, unable to
weather the storms

I ask you, what do you see
do you see a great buck
symbolism of regeneration
do you see the black bear
that swam across the river
from the mountains in search
of an adventure

I ask you, what do you see
do you see the swagger of
the bobcat that roams 
these preserved lands

I ask you, what do you see
do you see the feathered
winged friends fluttering 
from tree to tree, do you see 
the heron fishing with patience

I ask you, what do you see
do you see the squirrels and
chipmunks scampering about
searching for nuts and berries
do you see the raccoons and
muskrats

I ask you, what do you see
do you see the ancient maps
of the ancestors of the land
carved out in time promoting
healing in the spiritual quest

Tell me, what do you see
do you see that I am a hybrid
of all the animal spirits
that I have encountered

Tell me, what do you see

linking with earthweal

writing animal poetry

author's note:  I find this photo
amazing as I can see many animal
spirits hidden within the old growth

The Pulp of My Story

The Sunday Muse Prompt

 I
once
stood tall
a symbol of wisdom
expanding consciousness
living, breathing and giving
my roots dug deep into the rich earth
my crown always reaching towards light
my limbs sprouting to the beat of nature's song
often, I'd whisper ancient secrets into listening ears
the birds came in pairs nested in between my loving limbs
growing in splendor between the earthly and heavenly realms
then, the day of darkness came, cutting pieces of me one by one
your red axe heavy, hitting me hard, I cried silently in pain
YOU swung and swung until there was nothing left
putting your axe down leaving your mark
in the stump of what once was
called
my
s
t
o
r
y
of 
life

linking with The Sunday Muse

sharing with earthweal

 

May your inner tree always grow towards the light
Thank you for visiting

Ancient Watchers - A Song of Loss

 

Tension rising in the battle for survival

giant primeval trees the bones of old growth

rooted deep throughout the rings of time

the full moon, illuminating the forest below

in a dream, a mystic fog drifted into the night

standing before the ancient watchers in silence

one can hear the whispers of the standing trees

their heartbeat drums, a song of grave urgency

a shaman of great insight,  suddenly appears

long dark flowing hair, embedded streaks of gray

holding a  walking stick, a marker of his journey

we meet in another realm of time and space

speaking in his native tongue of which needed

no translation, words flowing, a river of knowledge

in the distance a wolf howls, under the flower moon

creatures of the night hover near,  orbs of light

between the thick limbs and covering of leaves

from the ancient watchers he offers  precious seeds

 

"plant these in a place of honor"

 

pointing his walking stick at the moon, he spoke in

parables

 

"There are nights when the soul howls for light and there

are days when the soul howls for a dream"

What does the night offer you?  Are you part of the tree

or part of the moon?

 

Take these seeds, let new life grow to replenish what has

been taken....howl with your voice at the injustice of our

plight....

 

cut no more of the ancient growth as they are a

refuge for all creatures of the forest

Our heartbeat is a signal of life....

the song of the ancient watchers the connectors of earth

and heaven....keepers of wisdom, balance and spirituality

 

author's note:  This was derived from a dream.  I tried to
keep it in it's rawest form - true to it's message.

My Friend, we are keepers of the sacred seeds

 

linking with earthweal

Rings of Time

courtesy of Pixabay

 Life started as a seed 

 hoping that you would take root

 & grow into a magnificent tree

In your early years growing

rapidly with the help of

spring and summer rains

and the warmth of the sun

One day there was a storm

lightning cracked , thunder roared

and a heavy tree fell

it's weight against your trunk

you had to fight hard to

build up your weaken side

In time you grew tall and straight

but, the neighborhood became

crowded and there was little

water and sunshine for

all to thrive...

Suddenly, one day a stranger

wandered in the woods with

his axe he trimmed down the

neighboring woodlands.  The

tree became sad and watched

the neighborhood decline

But, once again the tree

was  able to obtain ample

nourishment and sunlight

and the tree grew to new

heights for many years

Then, a terrible day came

the sky became smoky grey

fire breathed through the

forest.

The tree trembled in fear

and prayed to the heavens

for rain...

" save me", the tree cried

and so it was, the tree was spared

 still carrying the scars under

newly formed wood.

The tree survived many dry

spells and harsh winters

made her fragile limbs break

Today, the tree towers

the forest and her crown

seems to touch the sky

The tree's age is a secret

hidden underneath thick bark

rings of life,  tell an amazing

story...

May the tree live for many

generations to come gifting

the world with clean air,

a home for nature's animals

and harmony for it's people

author's note:  I missed Poets United

Midweek Motif - Ode to Age

This story of a tree kept

whispering in my ear

So many trees have

been lost by the recent

fires.

Thank you for reading

Have a wonderful day!
This is a rough draft
but, I think it has
potential

Autumn's Calling

Truedessa's Collection

Autumn reflections
harmonizing with nature
patchwork of color

grasping for understanding

mystery of fallen leaves

 ~

 Autumn's brilliant song
melancholy scented trails
climbing mountaintops
leaves fluttering to the ground
following tall tree spirits

sharing with Poets United - Poetry Pantry
Thank you for visiting