An Old Tree
An Old Tree
Bails unlocking their way
From the soil of dystopia to the branches of sonnet.
Wind wavering and crossing mountains away
And I yet holding onto the branches un-cleft.
When clouds bring over ponder
I bet of green.
Birds hover and wonder
Of a rainy day, of a rainy scene.
Fields then overturn
I see humans cheering.
And the dancing daffodils bring so much fun
To them, to humans it is unwavering.
How constant I fear of losing these sights?
Maybe the root knows.
The green of me has reached its heights
Fearing of fall? Not now the bird hopes.
Fruits and leaves when they fall
Joy in children then arises.
Prancing and dancing trees and flowers stall
Just to match the bright glitter of their eyes.
I, an old tree knows all of wind
Yet was always amazed by what it brings
A friend or a fiend?
As its deceits the memories untwined.
The childhood twigs, jolly and green
For a touch of rain, they defer.
Handy of leaves and keen
For a touch of rain, they defer.
Twisted roots and soil so fresh
Unbuckled chucks and no boots.
Now such a mess
My roots.
Have I grown to be too stiff?
Can I not dance once again?
Would the children ever make their trip
Forgetting all of their pain?
The wind scorching in the fields
And then the dancing daffodils.
Across many hills
Across many mills.
Even behind the sun
Away from the sea.
Would the wind even just for fun
Ever reach me?
Just for a moment of passage
For the wood and bails.
Would the clouds ever pass my message?
Of an empty rain.
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