Best Historytree Poems


The Survivor Tree

As the sun sets on the lone elm tree.
Its' silhouette looks upon me.
I believe it’s speaking quietly,
Whispering with its gentle breeze.
Telling me, to approach and see,
How my extremities are similar to thee.
Caught in amazement, yet stuck in beauty.
In the presence of an 80 year old tree.
I ask myself, who am I to be,
Strong, respected, but most importantly? 
When actually, who am I not to be?
This tree is strong, respected, and important i.e.
It gives us these aspects unconsciously.
And we too are capable of possessing the-
Strong qualities of the Survivor Tree,
From its’ symbol of strength in OKC.
Surviving the blast of our history.


____________________
The Survivor Tree survived,
The blast on April 19, 1995.
http://www.oklahomacitynationalmemorial.org

Premium Member The Dogwood Tree

THE DOGWOOD TREE


Legend says of the Dogwood tree
That on it, Christ was crucified
His blood was shed for you and me
When the soldier pierced His side

The blood that ran from His feet and hands
And the crown upon His brow
Was all a part of God's great plan
Two thousand years ago – and now

The petals on the Dogwood tree
Form a tiny cross
The brown stains you can clearly see
Represent the blood He lost

As this Dogwood tree is planted
Our thoughts are filled with pity
For the victims and the families
Who were bombed in Oklahoma City

Let this tree be a tribute
To the Man the world crucified
And to those in Oklahoma City
For whom this same Man died

And when you view this Dogwood
Think of those who died
Not only in Oklahoma City
But also the one crucified


This was written for inclusion in a memorial service conducted at Carl Vinson VA Medical 
Center in Dublin, Georgia for the victims in the Oklahoma City bombing incident.  A 
Dogwood tree was planted in their commemoration on May 19, 1995 at 9:02 a.m.

Curtis Moorman
May 16, 1995

The Kindah-Tree

Do your hear across the sky
And running through the Kinda Grove
What no silence can defy
The cocoon man in Ancestor's Grove
The spirits of Old Town awake
And every mortal being
Knees like dry calabash shake
When the Abeng is blowing

I am going to the sacred place
Going to trace my heritage
Going to the Peace Cave for my face
To behold the changing age
It was not for this blaring greed
This selling of foreign trifles
That the ancestors in bushes bleed
And spoke peace to ancestors of the rifles

So here by this tree where Cudjoe's flesh
Embraced the sanctity of earth
Here by this ancient place, zeal unmesh
My tongue to bite my hurt
And tell the Supreme Council truth's way
This Kindah-Tree will rope our necks
And tear our tongues like cloth away
Until we bare us of foreign decks

Then shall I dance when the moon shines
Then shall I hear te drums and smile
Nyame's people in dancing lines
Coming to the Kindah Tree, the wild
Boar turnig on the roasting stick
The hot cane juice frolicking on the mind
The culture recovered brick by brick
 To meet the ancient Kindah Tree design


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