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Tree Prayer Poems | Tree Poems About Prayer

These Tree Prayer poems are examples of Tree poems about Prayer. These are the best examples of Tree Prayer poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Revive the Breakage

High upon the highest heights I see the most tremulous sight A small girl, fair and tranquil Smiling strangely, sitting still Beneath a sobbing willow tree She recites a verse upon her knee She sings a rhythmic hymn Not of death, nothing grim But prays that life will return Even for those who are doomed to burn The girl is a woman now Beneath the tree and upon the cloud She whispers, “I am watching you” Why then are you so blue? A single tear of sadness and joy Rejuvenate the quirky earthly boy Who sits down beneath the blooming tree Listening to her silent voice attentively She reminds him she was once young too That she also was a misty shade of blue But when the boy grows into man He has come to ignore the fair woman Who watches him still from above Burning and swelling with disdainful love The ways of the world have sweltered his heart And time has torn his soul apart Thus he has lost all innocence and light Battling his sinful lust—an endless plight! I watch as he feeds on others’ pains and fears Reducing the vigilant woman to tears The prayer of the innocent has been ignored Life has died and hellfire stored Into the hearts of the impotent In blue, fires of haze their heart is sent Toiling in misery and lament Savaged and severed by our regret The heavenly woman grows old and frail And the man still treads the sinful trail As the rotting tree withers into dust Can I revive it? –I must! Low as low can possibly be I watch myself condescendingly A tombstone, gray and hell-bent Frowning knowingly in bewilderment Above the dust that once was a tree She cries out a verse anxiously Faintly she whispers the undying hymn Not of happiness, nothing of whim And prays that life will come to end For those that break instead of bend

Details | Iambic Pentameter | |


Amid the woods and snow he saw her form,
predestined oracle he sensed this was,
her recollected glance, was lone in storm,
outside the chapel she became first cause .

Lit were the chandelier's ocher chandelles,
his heartbeat thrummed an airy rhythmic spell,
the forest snowstorm reeled - shaped ghostly belles
invited him beneath the ringing knell.

Their Angel's bliss, his soul received in flames,
adept and kind the whisper of her voice,
"- Forgiveness calms those who indulge in blames;
devoutness is the prelude of free choice."

Outside he stepped beneath the Abbey's knell:
His voice dispersed above the snow and mass,
in cold embraced the iron wrought of bells,
- as waxen light passed through the chapel's glass.

His mind and woods enjoined in forceful prayer,
spells sacrosanct and numinous instilled,
in abstinence the sanctified abbe,
abandoned Convent life to years and thrills.

Escaped then he, to meet the woods in dark,
amidst their sovereign heights he was her groom,
continuum of time and space to arc,
his childhood's wraith became in mists and tomb.

© G. V. 01-04-2012 All rights reserved
(Iambic Pentameter)

Details | Free verse | |

Weeping Willow

Elongated branches
Poignant yet picturesque
Pointed little leaves
So comely and lush
The breeze
makes them dance
Quivering and shiver
Intricately entwined tree stalk
Robust and rugged is its center
The gust
makes it sway
As if it hears music
Distanced far away
sweetly whispering
To stay and pray.

Details | Quatrain | |


The tree stood stark and lonely,
All naked in the cold.
Her branches bare, her lovely leaves,
The breath of Winter stole.

In spite of all she stood yet proud,
Her branches raised to Heaven,
A silent prayer in her heart,
For Winter's sleep to lessen,

The pain she felt amid the cold,
The biting wind so cruel,
And please let not some human come,
And use her wood for fuel.

Then the winter queen looked down,
On Tree with sympathy,
And gave to her a lovely gown,
Of snow in symmetry.

Now the tree stands all adorned,
In glowing winter grandeur,
And all who see her stand in awe,
Of Tree in Winter's splendor.

Thanks to Phyllis Babcock for her poem "TREE" which inspired this one.

Details | Free verse | |

Take the Lead

God does not always respond the way one expects.

Its branches dressed in luscious green leaves
From the young look of the spring season
The cherry blossom tree had lost its sheen,
The petals of its flowers faded spread around its feet.

Of its pink blossoms, it had been so proud
Spreading their sweet fragrance thereabout 
Attracting couples young and old to sprawl
Expressing their love, such joy all about.

Now fewer people came by and when they did
Walked on by without even looking at it
It felt so alive in the presence of love, what a gift!
Had wanted this feeling never to end, but it did.

Said a little prayer to its Maker
Asked Him if he could bring back the flowers
It seemed to make people so happy
But nothing happened, and the tree felt lonely.

One day a young woman came by
She sat at its feet and began to cry
The tree felt in her the same sadness of loss
And wished it could comfort her somehow.

Said a little prayer again to its Maker
Asked Him how he could bring joy to her
A little wind began to blow suddenly
As if the Maker acknowledged its plea.

Its current detached one of its leaves
That fell on her right cheek upon a tear
With her fingers, she caught the leaf
Palm open, she looked at it without a speech.

A smile spread on her pink lips
For she saw in it a special gift
She wiped her face with the leaf
And turned her face up to the tree.

With a sparkle in her eyes, she said sweetly,
“Thank you. You lost all your flowers recently
Yet you gave me a gift of hope with this leaf
I know now I can take the lead.” 

By CarolineCécile, April 24, 2009.   

Details | Haiku | |

fire and mud

     haiku 8: fire and mud

fires burned down our trees;
so we prayed for rain to come:
mud stole our homes.

Details | Rhyme | |

Family Tree

Exploring the branches of the family tree can be rather dicey.
Some ancestry could be famous, humdrum or downright spicy!
A feller I know decided to take the risk and check around.
I'm not so sure that he was all that pleased with what he found!

Seems that in the distant past a member of his family strain,
Was a notorious pirate marauding the bounding Spanish Main!
Another was a nefarious cattle rustler ever on the vamoose.
Til a posse tracked him down, and stretched his neck with a noose!

One forebear, a scoundrel who specialized in robbing trains,
Was ensconced for life in a cozy cell, detained in heavy chains!
A rowdy ancestor caused a ruckus in a Cripple Creek saloon.
The local sheriff done him in one fateful afternoon!

His lineage included a "business lady", of whom he proudly spoke.
Til I revealed what a "soiled dove" was, dismaying the poor bloke!
His great-grandpa was caught dispensing jugs of potent 'shine.
Revenooers busted him, resulting in jail and a hefty fine!

His uncle was a goon in a notorious Chicago gangster mob.
He met his Maker heisting a bank they were trying to rob!
He proffered a prayer as he examined that tragic family tree:
"Lord! May a sturdy twig adorn this tree and let it begin with me!"

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)

Details | Classicism | |

A Day in the Sun

I long for silence
a day in the sun
when all these harsh whispers 
are quiet and undone

I hear an angel somewhere
calling falling
softly in his rage of flight
burning out in the twilight

A prayer in silence is a blessing
a life lived hard through the testing
what can the blind be missing
when god is in the art of kissing

A portrait of a saint
a face in the mirror
my heart in hand
my love inferrior

A tree comes down
a tree now dead on ground
i heard it cry yesterday
now no sound or anything to say

Is this the earth i wanted to save
full of broken hearts and unmarked graves
I bled so long, i've done such wrong
every broken life was a job well done

Soldiers in handbags
sally forth sally forth
a cross in a fist
to show you god's worth

I guess it makes some sense
for some to show some recompense
for all the things they had done
oh god the things they had done

For just one day of silence
a day  in the sun
where I didn't hear a gunshot
when we weren't killing someone

Details | Narrative | |

The River

Cracks of corral emerged between the Earth’s proud crown of evergreen
Gleaming down on grateful Father whose arms in bloom embraced his Daughter
Moon upon Moon in prayer he spent that God would grant his heart’s content
Now all his dreams no longer dreams but infant in his arms serene
They traveled on til trails converged and River’s roar ahead was heard 
Then there upon the shore was laid, a bless’ed barge of birchbark made.

From the River’s roots they rowed, embarking on a fate unknown
Wide-eyed Child soothed by Father’s song amidst echoes of the Wild’s call
Sweetly metered by sweeping oar he told her tales of life before
The great divide of Earth and Sky, of Land and Sea, of Day and Night 
How God by grace named each creature each fish and fowl each fir and fur
Then in His hands mixed clay and sand, the gift of life breathed into Man.

Between each bend dear Daughter grew and saw the world from worn canoe
Floating onward until the day she traded hums and howls to say
Father, Father, I understand! With lamb and wolf we share this land!
How scattered seed grew into tree and tree we carved for pole to feed
Father you’ve grown and given me your faith and love so I might be
Someday just like you a Giver on the road of life, the River!