The Tree


This simple thing seemingly forgotten

So taken for granted and overlooked

Nature’s stunning beauty represented

In every root, branch, flower, and nook


Crooked and gnarled as it stretches

Reaching out for mysteries unseen

Rough and rugged beauty grasping

Seeking knowledge in where it’s been


It envies the bird for its lofty flight

As it is cursed to stand forever still

Baring witness to all that surrounds

Then left alone in darkened icy chill


It sees the owl and covets it’s wisdom

Hears the lark and wishes to also sing

Seeing not the stunning beauty grown

And the uniqueness only it can bring


It is present when the Gods are crying

At hand as fire lights the morning sky

Rooted deep in loamy earthen reality

Unknowingly strong, infinitely high


It’s blossoms open and scent the air

While the world around goes ever on

Sweet aroma from such sturdy timber

Such tender grace from twisted brawn