Sunday, October 9, 2011

Sunday Trees

The Old Man in the Tree

This wood is sacred: it is forbidden to harvest here:
Not mushrooms or berries, not fallen limbs nor timber
Here the birds tiptoe and sing sotto voce
Kookaburras giggle elsewhere and cockatoos retreat
The wombats skirt the grove, no koala takes refuge
Even bushfires leap this ridge
The trees stand on, keeping vigil for the Old Man

The wood is sacred, a cenotaph
Listen to the keening of the wind in the branches:
Never forget, never forget



HyperCRYPTICal said...

Ah a fellow tree lover!

Trees to me are a thing of sheer beauty - I could lie beneath one and watch its dance with the wind for an eternity.

Lovely poem.

Anna :o]

Dave King said...

Wonderful. You make sure we do not forget.

Rallentanda said...

The Dandenongs is a magical place.
Without trees everything is so hideously ugly!

Laurie Kolp said...

Beautiful, Isabel.

Mary said...

Isabel, what a wonderful tree picture and no, I will never forget!

madhumakhi said...

What a vivid description of ecosystems created when there are trees. And those ecosystems are even more efficient when those trees are untouched by man.
A wonderful way to explain biology

Laura Maria said...

Beautiful subject matter and beautifully written :)

ds said...

Gorgeous. Love the tree as cenotaph; perfect image.
Thank you.

Willow said...

Beautiful, Isabelle. I love trees. We never seem to get it, we are the little people, or maybe we do get it and that's why we slay trees, to feel big? I am a tree hugger. I miss the hardwoods of my youth. I miss the coastal redwoods, my favorites. I confess to not being in love with palms, though I can enjoy them, some.

gautami tripathy said...

I love trees. Love to hug those!


Jenny Woolf said...

Good poem, and the picture is eerie - it looks as if the tree has swallowed him up.

Anonymous said...

Trees and words are always a wonderful combo. Cenotaph will haunt me for the rest of the day.

jabblog said...

This poem has said many things to many people - a true gift to any reader.

Jinksy said...

There are a multitude of things to see in that tree... Your poem is only one...