Tree Hugger
I’ll never understand
people who destroy trees.
Those stationary counterparts to humans,
have so many stories and wisdom to share.
Like the lines on faces;
each limb speaks volumes,
about its personality.
Each curl, a journey; with each twist,
a curve ball is thrown its way and
it’s forced to detour.
Where the squirrel and bird see real estate;
I see a being, ecstatic about life.
A sentinel and friend, guarding my yard,
nurturing my inner child.
The whispering leaves on wind,
Sing their songs; lull me into a deep sleep.
Creating shade for cooling and shadows that,
jettison my imagination,
on a journey through timeless universes.
When I hug a tree, I feel love;
they are providers,
generously sharing their ionic breath,
with all life.
From poet to painter;
trees are friends and inspiration.
We share similar bodies and limbs,
but tree roots are more solid than humans, at times.
They need not roam; nor are they restless.
They defend when Sol’s angry temper rages;
we cower near trees, for safety and tree faces,
are charred a crispy black; still they stand guard.
They will heal and prepare for his next tantrum.
Life giving breath, are the trees and
they work hard for our respect.
No, I will never understand why people destroy,
such souls, as trees.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment