Testimony of a Tree


Two separate lives, one whole being.

Towering centre, steadfast anchor.
Frivolous limbs, free, reaching up into the blue.

Keeper of time,
Marked by the lives of those it encounters,
Transients that leave their scars but not their presence,
That force remembrance, engrave a wound, a permanent design.

Lovers shrine, two braches intertwined,
Each year they travel, mark both fixed and in motion,
Moving upward, forever destined to climb.

Shelter, refuge, shielding structure.
Both soaring skyward and diving into darkness.

Roots that thirst and twist and seek,
That force a path and dig in deep.
Night time image of its other half,
Dark and dirty,
The cool and hidden part.

Nourishing and ensnaring,
Hunter and provider,
Gnarled and downward reaching,
Testing boundaries, digging, claiming.
Securing the above ground adornment,
The consuming surface, the obvious half.

Leaves take breath,
Roots feed and filter.
Would life survive very long without either?

On a bright and light filled day,
Pools of sunshine settle, cast shadows away,
Highlighting the edges of a leaf,
Sparking a glimmer, blurring harshness,
Warming the remnants of recent winter,
Bringing life and lustre, heat and hunger.
Radiant splendour,
Diversity of hue and shade,
Variations in colour as vast and abundant as the stream of spectators that visit but never stay.

Gleaming green,
Testament to time and growth,
Strength and resilience,
The personification of hope.

At the highest point sits the most courageous,
The babes of life, reaching up and out, towards the unknown.

Back on solid ground,
Standing unashamedly head tilted back,
All before seems infinite, an expanse of green gently brushing, caressing wide open blue.
Clouds sit and laze atop the canopy,
Take rest on a bed of new born leaves.

Hand held against the core and trunk,
Solid and rough, unmovable yet bearing signs of wear and damage.
A glance creates an image of indestructability,
A touch reveals a secret fragility.

The sure rigidity boasts of certainty,
Confidence to withstand anything and all.
Yet as a leaf flutters past my face,
I see a gentle innocence and grace,
tender heart and breakable existence.

Resting against this living wall,
I sit atop the hidden veins that share the burden of life but not the satisfaction of admiration.
There is an imbalance, an unjust view and glorification.
There is a need to see what is and is not on show,
Listen to the harmony,
The russle, soft to and fro.
The contradiction and complimentary existence of one creation,
Both stationary and in sway.

From this brief examination there is much to gather,
The importance of balance,
a desire to be both dark and bright.
A wish to be steady, strong and gentle,
To have an abundance of experiences,
Marks and reminders of a full and well lived life.
To be alive and searching, changeable and dependable,
Constant and constantly evolving.


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