Just, a small branch of the Living tree,
Engrafted,by a purchased possession free.
Broken, once tried in own works to sprout,
Thy, leaves, branches ,and roots in drought.
Would, leave thee to seek a new source,
One day death ignited a change of course.
Intertwined, into the eternal roots,
Newfound,knowledge of angelic fruits.
Just a small branch of the Living tree.
Into purification as One with the Key.
For in him we live, breathe, and grow,
To showcase the glory of clothes as snow.
Being, pruned moment by moment of old ways,
Just a small branch of the Living tree thou pray.
To remain in this newfound land of habitation,
For,in him was formed this majestic creation.
Neither dusk nor dawn can delude me,
says the leaves that fall in the autumn.
Everywhere they are feeling the earth and the soil.
All these days, from a height, they have seen it.
It’s now the time to touch,
feel,
and be part of the earth
with their skin upon it.
The leaves of the trees
happy to be with the soil,
but a longing and a miss—
its mother-like tree
and its caring branches.
But nearing its roots
is like strength gained.
Though dried its colour,
the coarse nature of texture,
and the experience of being green all round,
and now the season of autumn—
the evening in their life.
And these leaves
always add life to our lives.
As humans,
we enjoy watching the leaves change colour,
turn different from the way they sprouted—
still they serve us humans.
And neither dusk nor dawn can delude them.
They are from nature
and always remain as one—
though autumn or spring.
I grow from trees and beautify their crowns with leaves
On the dead barks I stand stark still
Why do you see only this trunk high as a hill
No king is a kingdom,
This olden branch is in need
To grow as a tree with a clear cloth
Bright and green
Just my own leaf
old tree by my door
a bird sits on one bare branch
snow covers the ground
Issa Kobayashi inspired poetry
Contest Judged: 8/1/2026 9:51:00 AM
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
(2nd Place)
Bends the elm at night, my darling
Branches rustling – here we are!
Early withered leaves keep falling
Some of them are flying far
Once I tried to follow these
My attempt to fly went wrong
Couldn’t catch a stronger breeze
That would take me to your home
As the darkness grows I see
That the nearest branch waves low
And it hisses - love, it’s me
I just came to say hello…
leaves dance when falling
from ancient oak tree
a spiral and twirl
once held – but now free
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Submerged in river’s hush~
the branch, once wind-tossed,
now cradled by silt,
its fingers trailing emerald ghosts.
117.
Branch on Fire
Up above the tree
Of courage and bravery
It fell down lazily
To burning trash underneath thee
Then a beast to man a bestfriend
Came by as if to defend
This twig from being churned
In order to be mend
From stone the twig was gone
Going elsewhere for a run
With its host like an Olympian
As if chasing the sun.
-04/16/2012
(Dumarao)
*for Crim. poem in Salingsing Issue of 1st Sem., AY 2011-12
The pine branch is white
with dawn frost, soon to vanish
forever again.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1416 HAIKU Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Contest Judged: 9/30/2025 12:10:00 AM
( 10th Place )
autumn’s last red leaf
clings trembling to the thin branch
wind waits for nothing
In a late autumn, when the last leaf sways on the branch of fate,
I have not learned to love, only to possess, to capture in threads of connections,
Fragile yet unyielding ties, a dance of possession that knows not love,
It's more than obsession, yet not quite possession, an enigma without answer.
I do not let feelings live in me, but sink my teeth into them,
I sip emotion, devour desire, a predator of my own experiences,
And yet, there's always one, just one, who pierces through the cold walls,
So silently, I didn’t even notice when this miracle occurred.
Now I don't know, but I know enough, I carry duality in every gesture and word,
Even when I say "You are free to leave," my mind whispers the opposite,
And words become mere hollow echoes, if you believe them, I'm sorry,
For you can only leave when I become the last leaf of autumn, the only one left.
In this melancholy, where desires are winds scattering illusions,
Only the echo of loneliness remains, dwelling in each fallen leaf,
A dance of the soul intertwined with the memory of unfulfilled love,
In an eternal autumn, where only the last leaf knows the truth.
When you think of your last days here on earth
Will you have relationship regrets before you depart
Estranged and alienated from loved ones or friends
Will you leave this world with a heavy heart
Reflecting back on the situation
Does it now seem insignificant and small
Do you wish it had never happened
The details can you even recall
Do you look back on the incident
Think of how silly it now seems
Was in blown out of proportion
Was it taken to extremes
Do you wish you could make it right
Make amends ,clear the slate
Could you still do that
Or is it too late
However, some falling-outs and fueds
Should never be resolved nor changed
The reason to huge or ugly
It is best to remain estranged
Are any of your estrangements resolvable
Do you feel you could be brave and take the chance
To reach out your hand in kindness
To offer an Olive Branch
outside my window sits a chickadee
he loves trees of oak & pine
has a family of a hundred & three
they love the snow & falling snowflakes sublime
& each morning some gather to sing a symphony for me
olive branch in one hand
weapon in the other
hoping for peace with his brother
eager to open his heart
stepping with caution
lest a new war he start
ancestors who precede him
sons who succeed him
raised midst outbursts of fire
triggered by scoundrels and liars...
visions nightly torment his wife
~ grasp tight the olive branch of life
Branch made the ax head float
Restored to use, so take note
Elisha's branch points to Him
Branch, the metonymic prelim
A limb grew out of Jesse's root
Beginning as a tender shoot
The shepherd boy became a king
An Ideal Savior - his offspring
David's line in disarray
Branch is born Christmas Day
The Davidic promise found in Him
To save His people from their sin
Repulsive to the natural man
Branch fulfills His Father's plan
Peter and Branch walking on the sea
Reveals the metonymic finale
Raised from the dead to return as King
Branch will accomplish everything
Universal and immensely overwhelming
"Yahweh our righteousness" is coming
Look to Branch in faith to restore
Spiritual refinement and so much more
Cleansed from sin and serving Him
We will share His metonym:
"I am the vine, you are the branches..."
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