When the great Pine groans
and a blade of grass stands straight
the bright Sun signals
an end of repose the end
of darkness' prison on earth
Kerouac, with his love of nature and God, meditating under the great Pine, seeing into the No-thingness of all! Such a great tanka that would make Kerouac proud. M.J., I can visualize you and him on the Grand Canyon meditating on no-thing. Outstanding work!
Thank you so much, Richard. And there's brilliance in your remarks. I just caught that same image. Perhaps we're all with Kerouac at the Grand Canyon.
Beautiful poem with great depth has been astutely and amazingly delineated. Thanks for sharing.
I see it as a spiritual renewal. Your thought provocative poem also reminds me of our great Norfolk pine that was beginning to die and had to be felled two years ago as it was too close to the house. During stormy nights we would hear the tree groan in an almost end of it's tether way..
Simone, I can just see that great Norfolk Pine groaning, or perhaps pleading. Thanks so much for reading.
Oh, yes, readers could have a heyday delving through this poem for proof they found the true meaning- I find that excellent exercise for the brain! Both for the reader and the author. It is not easy to lay out a trail of bread crumbs that will not only lead the reader somewhere but lead a multitude of readers to different places but justifiably so. I could see Native American aspects to this piece, I can see this from a nature lover's point of view. I can certainly see the Creator God and His Son in this poem- with the groaning pine being the cross on which the Sun [the Son] was crucified, and His resurrection [the blade of grass] freeing the world and mankind from the darkness of Satan's reign. I enjoyed this and I enjoyed finding multiple meanings to it as well as finding my own religious meaning in it. Thank you.for the open invitation to a puzzle and lovely poem all in one! 10+
Wow! Thank you so very much, Susan. When I manage to engage both the mind and the spirit....that gives me the best of days possible. Thanks again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'When the great Pine groans' there was a time in childhood when I often heard pine trees groan playing among them all day, occassionally you hear a pine tree groan, more often limbs of pine trees rubbed together in the wind, heavy littering of pine needles on the ground beneath them, the smell of pine needles in the air, sap on some pine cones, those pulled from the trees and wonderful pine cone fires on cold winter nights, a poem stirring memories