"sappling" poems
Blue skies
and not a cloud in sight.
and whisperings reach far,
mocked goodbyes
and the scent of pine.
connect
with nature,
disconnect from your heart.
we come from dust and to dust we return.
oh! did you skin your knees?
no? just one?
that's OK, brush it off,
return to dust.
lying beside a fallen tree,
flowers grow from your mouth,
your brain; the perfect nutrient
for a sappling.
return to dust.
feel the dirt in your fingers,
feel the sun on your face,
feel the wind through your shirt,
return to dust.
no rain for California,
no relief from the relentless,
we owe gratitude to the dinosaurs
in this age of gasoline.
return to dust;
fuel the next generation's gasoline driven engines,
return to dust.
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 3:24 PM UTC
a tree
young sappling grown
in fertile soil well sunned and dappled
grew hard strong tall and known
to all the creatures of the forest
his free
dancing in the breeze
drew squirrels from far and near
every creature within the bounds
of the forest around to see and hear
his breath
of maturity at a young ripe
age the color of his bark so clear
his limbs as strong as any seen
brought wide acclaim fame
and infamy because
one day he had the nerve to
walk away
pull up roots
make a way down the mountain top
to a place the evergreen
is not supposed to be
right in the middle of the
river flowing
and it weren't no breeze
nor typhoon
that set him there
it was his own free will
and he cooled his root and
sang hymns
to her
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 11:11 PM UTC
My name is etched into the bank's clay,
all of the molecules of impure water
will erode my letters from such a marker.
The trees die, and so do their carvings,
falling to a moldy pile of a weakened sappling.
I will be forgotten.
No effort can leave my name in
ink upon all of the trees,
and their trees
and so on
ad infinitum.
I will die; so will my name-
How vain am I to think I am special?
Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 9:57 PM UTC
feeling for feeling -
fingertips, foundations, friends,
they slip, they slip
i know not what i once knew,
but for always and forever,
there is more to know
growth is the answer that i get,
to whatever question i decidedly ask,
it's roots deepening and branches reaching
and the pain, it's brief, but deep,
haven't felt it in awhile,
but i know it's the good kind
loss is inevitable, but so is strength,
and the buckets never seem to empty,
no matter how much is poured
so, i will swim, paddle, and float
my way to a better existence
beyond the ether and into a new day
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 12:05 PM UTC
I know.
It takes more than a minute to burn down a forest.
What about a sappling?
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 4:55 AM UTC