Life Tree Poems | Examples
These Life Tree poems are examples of Tree poems about Life. These are the best examples of Tree Life poems written by international poets.
Under the numb of the yum yum tree
Under the glum of my plumbless eye
Between the branches of life and death
Under the limbs of a plumbless sky
Under the broken branches of hope
Under the branch makers watchful eye
Between the gasp of first and last breath
Under my numbness, I pray to die
Under beguile of my maiden fair
Under a smile, thought I knew so well
Between eaves of trees, she bleeds, deceives
Under plumbless eye, she seeds my hell
Under the glow of a plumbless moon
Under my glum that I keep inside
Between numb dead eyes, a lead-filled prize
Under glum plumbless, I open wide
Adored by all the plants and trees,
but forsaken by his wife,
he loved the sound of a gentle breeze,
and gave the grasses life.
When she said, "time to mow the lawn",
he knew which side that he was on.
Borrowed the neighbors chainsaw
Oiled it, sharpened the blades
Never used one before
Except that time I tried to fillet a fish
Had to trim my tree
Each branch trespassed next door
Already ate their criticisms for lunch
Dang! How do you start this thing?
Better read the instructions again
Life erupts from inanimate arbor barber
Usually, this job would be a breeze
Except, I sliced through the limb...
Severed my left shinbone
TIMELESS REFUGE
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Weathered trees rise out of the earth, brushing against the sky. The wind sends a shudder of movement through the branches causing the majestic trees to creak and groan as they sway. In the distance is a cabin, timeworn and dilapidated.
in the heart of woods
ancient cabin stands alone
whispers of time flow
its walls, worn by years
stories etched in every board
testament to life
roof, a patchwork quilt
of shingles weathered and worn
memories await
the windows, like eyes,
gazing out upon the world
silent witnesses
the fireplace crackles
warmth spreads through the chilly air
comfort, solitude
outside, the forest
whispers secrets to the wind
tales of days past
the time-worn cabin
endures, is steadfast and true
a timeless refuge
A warm apple night,
moonlit tunes sprinkle around us
like snowflakes in July.
I collect them with open pulms:
silly dances, smiling eyes,
tightened arms when time felt too fast—
in the fabric of cider air.
The city wore coal dust, but
he smelt of cut grass and
noon lake so serene—
I dreamt of bluebirds from the west
eager for new water.
Green leaves as tonsils, for our
eternal midsummer.
She creates her world at night,
Her mind becomes a beacon of light,
Illuminating the dark corners of her mind.
She sees beyond her surroundings,
And in the stillness of the night,
The universe within her emerges,
She scripts these mysteries.
He crafts his art in a dimly lit room,
His mind flourishes in this ambience.
The designs emerge from the shadows,
Like a blooming meadow at dawn.
He sketches these creations,
And then they come to life.
I am a child born of the union of the two,
Two worlds dwell within me.
Sometimes I become a turbulent sea,
I create my realm at any time,
As long as it is an endearing clime,
Mysteries linger in my chamber,
And sometimes the unseen walks into my slumber.
She is gifted yet sometimes troubled by her abilities;
He is skilful and dutiful, yet haunted by the tendrils of the night.
I am a skyward architecture of the first and a budding of the second.
At times, I traverse strange pathways,
Together, we seek redemption.
August 30, 2025.
Imagine your awareness
extending into other forms,
a bird, bug or a tree -
what it would be like
to feel the world through them,
immersed in whatever
is taken in, to assume
the very essence
of being them.
Ponder what is happening
behind the bright, wide eyes
of a dog when it looks up
and stares at you - question
whether there is nothing but
a rudimentary, dialled down
awareness flickering
in the shadowy circuitry
of a mind -
or is there, somewhere
within, a presence
of the indivisible,
the same that is inside me
and the bird, bug and tree.
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(aids for life delights:)
(food, crib, ladder, cross, coffin…)
(trees* are God’s blest gifts)
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*Psalm 104:16 The trees of the Lord are full of sap...
August 22, 2025
1st place, "Illusku : Illustrated Haiku Challenge" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by JCB Brul; judged on 8/28/2025
I wish I knew how acorns grew
Into a mighty oak,
But I’ve no clue and nor do you
Nor any other folk.
For certain seeds fulfill their needs
Yet take so long to grow
That, unlike weeds, our human speeds
Of life are much too slow.
We might take heart and see how smart
Are seedlings as they sprout,
But we’ll depart before they start
Their skyward branching out.
Under the Tree of Life, I slept in profound and secret shade,
when the Holy Lord took pity and opened a window within,
with a deep wound that pierced my dream and slumber,
and in that moment, I lost you, my love, my blue light akin.
With my wounded eye, I gazed at you and knew you as a stranger,
holy as the Lord, far from me, far from all known lore,
now only in dreams and sleep, you are my source of light's wager,
now only in sleep and dreams, you arise as an unborn longing's core.
Source of harsh thoughts, now only in dreams do you abide,
now only in slumber do I find you, in secret, without end,
stranger and holy, like the Lord, in celestial abysses you reside,
now only in dreams and sleep, you are my unceasing yearning's trend.
You are the echo of a time that knows no boundary between dream and real,
a shadow dancing on the edge of a lost thought's seam,
and in deep slumber, I find you, an astral symbol surreal,
now, only in dream and sleep, my love, a silent yearning's theme.
summer’s scorching heat
leaves curl up burnt to a crisp
the tree’s life threatened
I went to see the old burnt out lightning tree.
To see what wisdom and guidance it had for me.
.
I've been drawn here, since I was so young.
Mighty oak tree, on the hill, so tall, so strong.
Many times spent here in play and laughter.
Many times spent here in silence, at times of disaster.
Struck by lightning and trunk split in two.
Damaged by humans, but still it grew.
Old and worn, it never shudders, it never shakes.
Never speaks, never judges, never does it forsake.
It listens to my moaning, it listens to my woes.
I tell it of an uneasy feeling, that runs from my ageing fingers, to my weary toes.
I ask for it's knowledge, I ask for it's advice.
I'm given reassuring grounding, I'm given a connection back to life.
It's comforting entwining branches offering a safe embrace.
Away from the constant running of the human rat race.
Like a child again, I sit up in it's perfectly green leaved shaped crown.
Now feeling empowered as it takes away my old worn facial frown.
Written Aug 2025
A tree needs sun, water and soil
gives back its fruit...
and its shade
on a hot, sultry day
A bee needs a flower to pollinate
gives the world honey
sweetens life
soothes living souls
We too have our needs
our sun ---------------- the warmth of parents
our water and soil ---- their nurture
our flower ------------- their love
We too give back
our warmth
our nurture
~ our love
The beauty of your life is so easy to see,
In the colors and lines of your symmetry.
After a time with the tree of your life,
Severed from your stem by the wind as a knife.
To ride the wind and swirl to the ground,
To please another as your beauty is found.
I can see in your color a purpose you serve,
Formed to perfection, each little curve.
Planted in rich soil, the tree grew quite tall,
A steam flowing near, gave water to all.
The roots, limbs and branches their part so bold,
To bring out the best in the warmth and cold.
But it is truly my solemn belief,
A tree is most beautiful because of the leaf.
A tree birthed in girl's heart behind the window
Wherever, however, old Aspens are made —
And God was in green's time, Christ coming in gold.
The solo leaf that before my look just swayed —
She dropped in the dark, though would her lost life grow.
While at Autumn's end, I remember her shade —
Tree limbs reach for my womb, but never lift up
From where my hands feel, leaves come in unborn touch