The Tree Of Life
Walking alone in the midst of the trees
the wind there was blowing gently and
everything was moving it seemed except me.
The birds were twittering in the branches overhead
singing out their love for nature and whilst listening
didn't share in their praise but envied them instead.
I could feel something watching unsure of what I intended
and sense something telling them about me to take caution;
keep out of reach, fear and harm is perhaps what I represented.
But what was this thing or feeling that I was sensing?
Could it be the ceasing of the wind and the stillness that
was effected or the hours of darkness that were falling?
My presence and expanding awareness was perhaps the likely answer.
But there was also, I could sense, a general saline moisture in the air
reminding me of tears and the ocean, from which did the wind transfer?
I kept on walking slowly along following a path I could barely see
seeking some place where I could find my joy to rejoice in and so
nearing the edge of the forest had no idea where that place would be.
What lay ahead in the stretch of land seemed like mere desolation
so, after hesitating a little and pondering, began traversing that land
because there was much more to witness from direct observation.
That which I witnessed amidst the trees was only part of what there was to see
and as I continued making my way slowly forward along the land,
I stumbled on something and fell thinking how cruel nature was to me.
While laying there for some time propped up on elbows with head drooping down
could not help feeling the way I did and wishing the grass was much taller
so that I might bury my head in it and become one with the ground.
When one is alone and lonely one does often think of many things,
not necessarily depending on the state of mind or mood one is in;
calmness, quietude and reflection are the fruits that solitude brings.
People, it seems to me that, when they are running the risk
of being swept away by a strong and prevailing tide
that could drown them, always try to find a higher more secure ground.
But how high can they go and how long there can they abide?
This was almost the case with me for I was drowning in my own thought
and with the onset of darkness perhaps I was trying not to get caught.
Thus I ventured forth straight into the unknown it seemed.
How far and which way could or would I go was deemed
only by time which would tell if I reached my destination
with no one and nothing to guide me but my imagination.
Sitting up I realised, after looking about me, was a kind of day
in which everything seemed serene and beautiful with the sun
shedding its last warmth and light, the air gently blowing away
its freshness and sense of freedom, this day was almost done.
Yet the darkness still was falling and thought provoking
and bearing all of its weight there upon me.
[...] Read more
poem by George Krokos
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