interlaced among the
feathery tree fingers, woven
...of big giants;
of original ideation
and of beauty in creation.
And the tree says "See me."
I drink in the forest floor through all my pores
and hear the wind as it sails up and up
through each stand
caught up in the canopy to beat the band.
Trees to me, are like giant friends.
"I bid you peace."
"...And peace to you, friend,"
they seem to answer back.
Yes, I am
a student of the tree.
A willing pupil in the forest's
tree meeting place
and a witness to the
of the canopy;
a place where I have found the wind
between rest and play
and a zillion sweet variations therein.
I really like the poem and the photo. I simply love looking up at that view! The last line or phrase of your poem was especially vivid.ReplyDelete
Thank you E.B. So glad that you enjoyed the poem and stopped by to sit 'neath the tree...ReplyDelete
So lovely, lg. Both photo and poem. There's something magical about trees...ReplyDelete
I missed this lovely post yesterday - it fell in that time of long commute home and then never getting on the computer last night...ReplyDelete
Lynn~ I had physical therapy for my shoulder so i didn't get to post until later in the day.ReplyDelete