Friday, March 30, 2012

the sycamore tree

I descended, a tiny seed
into the dusty cradle of this blackened earth
and thence sprouted, swiftly unfurling
and broke through the greenish turf

in the sunlight and the rain
in the clouds, and in the dirt
I opened, permeated
my home a kingly court

I grew and I gloried
and cast a shadow underworld
in the cool winds I shifted softly
spreading seeds like feathered pearls

and so I lived for centuries
content within this wonder world
certain of a wisdom in small worries
attaining much for which I yearned

until the fates there did find me
and cast a spell upon lifeblood's spurt
and soon I rotted, sickly
my limbs falling upon the dirt

for all that live must die
within this mortal turn
and so too, did I
of death most ably learn

and yet within my decayed branches
reposed a treasure-house of wealth
for my past existence, so full and sweet
now enriched the soil with health

and though in life much was taken
to help my spirit grow
how soon in death, all was given
as others flourish as one goes

and this is how it shall ever be
as a forest springs slow forth
for out of dust and ashes
new life is given birth

1 comment:

  1. This gave me goosebumps AND brought tears to my eyes! Soha your poetry leaves me in complete and total awe. I love you my beautiful sister!