When you look into the mirror, think not upon how others perceive you; instead, think about how God sees you. To Him, you are the most beautiful thing on earth. And that's all that matters.
Please feel free to comment. I'd love to hear what you think of my feeble attempts to convey my thoughts, feelings, and imaginings.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

The Memory Of Trees

So Enya has this album called "The Memory Of Trees", and I was listening to it and wondering what trees would remember if they could think and feel,  see, smell, and hear.  I imagined them waking up from an enchanted slumber, and stretching limb and leaf toward the sky.  Feeling  the sun, they'd think, "What is that warmth on my leaves?  Oh, sun, I remember!"  They'd wiggle their roots in the cool, hard dirt, deep below the grass.  They'd say, "What's that I hear?  Birds!  Water!  I remember.. I remember!"  So, while I was listening to Enya, I decided to write a poem; a poem about 'The Memory of Trees...'

Sun and rain, wind and snow
In the memory of trees
Long green grass grows far below
Branches moved by breeze
Flood and drought, fire and storm
Did these old boughs mar
These trees with time and trials formed
Lithe and strong, yet scarred
Branches stretching to the sky
Reaching for the sun
While far below the soil lie
Roots entwined as one
Birds on limbs and branches nest
Bees in hives abide
Squirrels in nooks and crannies rest
Hiding nuts inside
Hunts and wars, and lovers' trysts
Encounters more than these
From lifetimes past, do still exist
In the memory of trees


Beth

1 comment:

Bill said...

I can understand why some would be touched by an old growth forest - there is a sense of ancient memory - that dazzles the mind. It springs from the cry of creation ( Rom 8:22) and is spiritual. I love the imagery and feel of your poetry and heart.

Border?