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(1/28/1956 / Washington DC)

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Golden Tree

In the dark late night she appeared
A golden tree dancing
Before a sky of azure blue
Somewhat purple hued.

Her branches grew haphazardly
Playing hide and seek with cirrus clouds.
Inside she prayed for rain to shine upon her.

Through a kaleidoscope she could read the songs
Of her wounded soul,
Although the approaching dawn was blackening.

Electric blue were the eyes of midnight.
Mistrustful, they hid behind a wall of deceit
This golden tree danced in the early morning breeze,
As she shivered to ward away the fallen snow.

She wept for all of the hurt through which she lived.
When she read the world through that kaleidoscope,
There were none but scattered shards of broken glass

“Dance and dance”
All tell this golden tree,
For she shall grow when the sun rains upon her gilded heart.
She is loved, in all her lustrous glory.

Red birds of ardor,
Robins with their breasts of copper,
And the new moss that grows upon her fragile trunk
Shall arrive within a vessel christened “springtime.”

She reaches out with agile limbs
To trees with silver branches
Swaying to and fro,
Dropping leaves with veins of woven silk,
That wilt with each and every touch.

In the dim moonlight when the air is bittersweet
There appears a golden tree that dances,
Far from where the rippling creek is crawling over
Gemstones dampened by the rain.

Against a sky of azure blue
Touched with purple hues
A lithe, dancing golden tree can be found
In any place, time or realm,
She could be you or me-
Perhaps anyone’s wounded soul,
Where its world seen through a kaleidoscope
Is none but a shattered dream…

Submitted: Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Edited: Saturday, May 21, 2011


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Comments about this poem (Beyond the Stream by Claudia Krizay )

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  • Dr.tony Brahmin (5/10/2010 2:31:00 PM)

    i liked very much ur story of the golden tree
    Against a sky of azure blue
    Touched with purple hues
    A lithe, dancing golden tree can be found
    In any place, time or realm,
    She could be you or me-
    Perhaps anyone’s wounded soul,
    Where its world seen through a kaleidoscope
    Is none but a shattered dream…
    liked these lines. God bless you and thank u for sharing

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Afzal Shauq (8/6/2009 6:08:00 AM)

    She wept for all of the hurt through which she lived.
    When she read the world through that kaleidoscope,
    There were none but scattered shards of broken glass

    great and a good job hey the poet of nature.. really sweet and the plea you presented for a golden tree is symbolic way... menaingful, and heart touching poem is this one..loved it...

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