Sovereignty
He’d gone for a walk
In his local wood
Fell asleep there
Where he stood.
Ten years later
When he next awoke
He’d assumed the form
Of a juvenile oak.
Felt the breeze,
Felt rain’s gentle tap,
Felt the force of
Flowing rising sap,
The thrust of roots,
Anchoring down deep,
Felt aware, felt at ease,
Then fell back to sleep.
Any human sentience
Now near gone
As fifty years had
Progressed on,
Firmly established in
It’s allotted space,
A tree experienced life
At a different pace.
With the semblance of
An almost sigh
Bid the last trace of
His Humanity goodbye.
Standing firm and tall
Dominating the ground
Now the Major Oak of
All woods spread around
Copyright © Terry Ireland | Year Posted 2022
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