drooping willow trees, along a cold, lonely creek
praying to the river to not wash it's foundation, it's sweet soil away
to take from it's roots' grasp will fall deep down in the water to lay
sleeping in rot in the fast flowing grave
ripped from the Earth, it's only home
will carry it's life on down the river alone
slipping past and amongst it's kind,
the onlookers whose terror comes in time
there will be a day when the banks and sands of every stream, river and ocean
will be diminished away, their barriers broken
the world will be a flood of water, swirling fast, flowing strong
all land loving, Earth hugging creatures gone
this is the time that comes for the onlooking trees,
who now float alike, looking on to the vast blue sea
You have a great landscape style of writing. Using the world around you as metaphor and imagery to get your point across. Some the pictures you create are just beautiful. Keep on writing. Its awesome.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You have excellent imagination! Keep it up! This poem really helped me and I hope it helped other people too