Stark among the lush of youth
tall, unashamed
no leaves twirl downward
no fertile blanket of rot
to feed saplings
fresh with green sprigs.
Many seasons
they have tasted your sustenance.
Do they regard your wisdom
whispered in the mountain breeze?
Do they believe tales told of
life on the hill,
of cycles of torrents, droughts,
penetrating frosts and mountains
of drifted snow?
Do they devour the lore
falling among the leaves?
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 11:35 AM UTC
Stark among the lush of youth
tall, unashamed
no leaves twirl downward
no fertile blanket of rot
to feed saplings
fresh with green sprigs.
Many seasons
they have tasted your sustenance.
Do they regard your wisdom
whispered in the mountain breeze?
Do they believe tales told of
life on the hill,
of cycles of torrents, droughts,
penetrating frosts and mountains
of drifted snow?
Do they devour the lore
falling among the leaves?
Request permission to use this poem