Poem -
Tree Soul
As I reflect on what a tree means to me
I reflect on its leaves
and how they can dance in the soft wind
and blow away with a force
changing colour with each magnificent season
and then die so gracefully
I reflect on how it's roots are alive underground
moist soil and pitch black darkness
keeping them in continuous rebirth of beauty
until the day they themselves lose their soul.
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Comments
Roots alive underground
I guess I like the way you yourself are not present in this one, I've tried this effect. In this poem it comes off perfectly
Metaphor and all you can see it. Thank you dear Rory.
Or maybe it's on how we adapt and we are much of nature, by law, as is the tree?
Also yes. 🌹
A Tree is the best part of me. A Lovely Verse. 💕
Thank you so much dear B.S always a pleasure to see you. 🌹
Trees show us just how to be, ever in one place, they have no need to run after stuff that in the end you must always leave behind. Thank you for reminding me🙏
Thank you so much dear John. 🌹
A fabulously reflective piece here Shirley. Words chosen with care and meaning. I saw a documentary once that showed a whole underground world of connecting roots... like a complete alien world beneath our feet. Hugs x
You just gave me goosebumps! Thank you my dear Marion. 🌹